The Deadly Arena
by mike007777
Summary: The 67th Hunger Games are about to commence. But this time, President Snow has made "additions" to the arena himself.
1. District 1 Reaping

**[Well, my story got taken down, but I am re uploading it and this time I am following the rules. Unfortunately that means that a couple things about the story have changed, namely how the interviews and Chariot Rides would work, but I hope everyone can just enjoy the story as is!]  
**

**District 1 **

**4 hours before the reaping **

Rebekah Michaels wished there was a better way, or at least an easier way to tell her 10 year old brother she was volunteering this year. But as she stared into his eyes, she found herself stuttering.

"What is it?" He asked, concerned.

"Well, you know that I've been training for a while now." She said slowly.

He nodded, but said nothing.

"And you know that I eventually wanted to volunteer for the Games, that was the whole point of training." She continued.

"So your volunteering this year." He said quietly.

"Well, yeah. But I'm ready, the trainer said I was the best female tribute in class. This is what I've been training for everyday." She replied.

They were both very quiet, and said nothing.

"I'll be fine, Marvel." Said Rebekah, breaking the silence.

"Do you promise?" Marvel replied, his eyes tearing up.

"Nobody I know is a better shot with a bow then me."

"Nobody?"

"Nobody."

"You still didn't promise." Said Marvel, crossing his arms.

Rebekah laughed, "I promise I'll be fine. Are you happy now?"

Marvel nodded, but she could tell he wasn't happy in the least.

Marvel and she were very close, despite their age differences. Their father was the mayor, and although he tried his best, he rarely ever had time for the two of them, and their mother was just as busy. So growing up, they had been each others company, and they had become very close. But when Rebekah was chosen to train as a career, they found they had less and less time to spend together. So Rebekah would always sneak Marvel out with her, and he would watch the training, and then they would train together at night. She knew very well it was only a matter of time before he was chosen to train in the early classes of careers. Although she would be proud of him if he did get accepted, she'd be lying if she said that she'd be happy.

Being a career had it's benefits of course. It commanded respect, and the group of careers had a certain camaraderie that she hadn't experienced with other school mates. She knew full well that Marvel would succeed in that kind of atmosphere. But part of her didn't want him to. He was such a kind boy, and she was afraid that being a career would change him. She had noticed that a lot of the careers had become cruel and bullies to the kids who weren't careers. She was worried what they would become in the arena, if seeing blood and death would unleash a whole new kind of monster.

Not all of them were like that, but certainly she had a few she was worried about. She didn't want Marvel involved in all of this, and she wasn't sure why. District 1 viewed the Games so highly, and it was a great honor to even be chosen to volunteer. If you happened to win, then you were a hero until you died. She wanted all of this for herself, but not for Marvel. Not to say that she didn't want Marvel to be happy or successful, it's that she didn't want him to experience the Games. Unlike her other careers, she knew how bad the games could get. The televisions portrayed the Games in a noble and admirable light. But she knew the gritty and difficult truth.

"What are you guys up to today?" Yelled a friendly voice.

They both looked over to see Rebekah's friend, Ric.

He was a skinny and tall boy, with floppy brown hair, and around the age of 16. Rebekah and he had always been friends, even after she had become a career. He was a pacifist, as he called it. Known to be very calm, and wise beyond his years. Rebekah was 17, and had long curly blonde hair. She however, although kind when she tried, had a short temper, and a wicked competitive nature.. Whereas he believed problems were solved through talking, she believed problems were solved through action. How they had become friends, neither could remember, but she was the Yin to his Yang, and was grateful for his friendship.

"Not to much." She said quietly.

"Rebekah's volunteering…" Noted a still angry Marvel.

Ric seemed shocked for a second, but then his calm demeanor came back,

"You hadn't told me this, Rebekah." He said, sadly.

Rebekah hadn't told him for this very reason, seeing as he was a pacifist, he would never want her to do something like this. He would probably try to debate this, or beg and plead with her to change her mind. But no matter what he said, she would still volunteer.

"Good luck, then." He said.

Rebekah was shocked, he hadn't even tried once to convince her! Even worse, there was no remorse or even concern from him. Was he even worried for her at all?

"Marvel, I brought you something." Ric said, and handed him a small leather ball.

"What is it?" Marvel said, inspecting it.

"It's something I made. Here watch this," Ric replied, taking the ball.

Then he tossed it up in the air, and caught in on his foot. Then with a little dance, tossed it from his left foot to his right foot over and over.

"The goal is to see how long you keep it going." He said, handing it back to Marvel.

Marvel smiled and ran off holding his new toy.

Rebekah was still angry at hurt at Ric, he should have at least been worried. After all, they had been friends since they were kids.

"Care to go for a walk?" He said.

Rebekah frowned, but agreed.

As they walked they said nothing, and she was curious what the point of this walk was. Still Ric said nothing, but was leading her toward the edge of the fence. As they reached the fence, she couldn't hold it in any longer,

"I'm going into the Games! Don't you even care a little bit?" She screamed.

Ric sighed "Of course I do. More than anything, but I didn't want to show Marvel how worried I was. In his mind, you should be confident and obviously going to win. If I was worried for you, so would he."

So that's what it was, Rebekah knew that he had to have cared. He was Ric, after all.

"I suppose there is no way I could convince you to stay?" He said with pleading eyes.

"I've made up my mind." She said.

Ric rubbed his forehead, "It's beyond me why you don't want Marvel in the Games, but you could care less if you're in them."

Rebekah hadn't thought about that, and her answer was the first thing that came to mind.

"I suppose I don't care as much for my life as I do for his."

"Are you crazy?" Said Ric, surprisingly getting angry.

"What do you mean?" Asked Rebekah.

"You have so many people that care about you. Nobody wants to see you do this." Ric replied, emotional.

"You couldn't name one person besides Marvel and maybe my Dad that cares about me that much." She frowned.

"Well," Stuttered Ric, "I do."

Rebekah smiled, "Well of course, we're friends. Who else would you eat lunch with?"

Ric shook his head, "It's more than that. Its-"

Rebekah frowned, what was he getting at? She had never seen him this tongue tied.

"I love you Rebekah." He said, almost shouting it.

She didn't know what to say, but all she did was step foreword, and kiss him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and they both were comforted in each others embrace.

"Now do you see why you have to stay?" He whispered softly in her ear.

Everything changed when she said,

"I can't."

As she said this, Ric slowly stepped away. She could see the tears in his eyes, and she knew that she had hurt him more then anyone else ever had. He nodded, and he walked away.

As he walked away, she wondered if she would ever see him again, and for the first time she was a child, she cried. Not for fear of the Games, or even or own life. But the prospect of not seeing Ric again, was all together to much to bear.

**District 1 **

**4 Hours before the Reaping. **

Watching them infuriated Emerald Kyle. He hated everything about them, how they moved, how they talked, how they trained.

He was staring at his fellow careers, and he knew he was well above them. Everything about them shouted amateur, to their slow swing of the sword, to even their stance. They all feared whenever he stepped into the sparring ring, because none of them stood a chance one on one against Emerald. But he had given up those things a year ago, he had decided that when he was 17, the trainers had taught him everything they could, and they were holding him back. Now that he was 18, he knew even the trainers feared him. He insisted this was to be the year he volunteered, and they agreed. Even though he required no more training, he came to watch the careers, and study their moves. He knew this sort of sloppiness and inexperience would be found in every district, and he wanted to study every aspect of it.

He had never understood these things, he had been clean, thorough and successful since he was a child. He never made a mistake that he couldn't fix in a minute after making it, and he was damn proud of who he had become. His parents were never ones for this sort of things, they never wanted him to be a career. They died when he was ten.

They never believed in him.

They were holding him back.

They deserved it.

All thoughts that flurried around in Emeralds head everyday. The district had concluded that they both suffered from heart failure while having dinner with him on a cold winter night. People thought it was odd they both had heart attacks at the exact same, but eventually people forgot. Besides, they mayor himself announced that it was the only clear cause. But that look he gave Emerald that day, he had to have known.

He knew that Emerald killed his own parents.

Emerald was just learning the ins and outs of poison, and he had finally concluded that his parents were restricting his training. So, he poisoned their plates, and finished his meal while they lay dead on the table.

He now knew why the mayor hadn't turned him in, its because the mayor saw his potential. He what Emerald would become, and he wanted him to represent the District during the Hunger Games. But things take time, and it was a long ploy. Recently, the Mayor had come up to him, and said,

"This is your year, boy. All these years must have been worth it. Do your _parents _proud." He said, with a menacing undertone. As he said "parents" he had a coy smile that made Emerald realize he knew. Emerald was surprised by the first feeling he had.

Guilt.

How could he feel guilty? Emerald Kyle never felt guilt, because guilt was the byproduct of a mistake. Emerald Kyle never made mistakes.

But for some reason, his heart fell to his stomach, and the smell of smoke on the mayors mouth made him uneasy. He said nothing, and the Mayor walked away.

They mayor would have to pay for humiliating Emerald like this. But for now, he would focus on the Games.

And focus he did. This is where he was left, staring at the Careers in disgust. He almost laughed to himself how far he was ahead of them, in intelligence and in strength.

"Hey Emerald." Said one the girl tributes, who was walking his way.

He didn't know who she was, he didn't even bother to learn their names. But he knew that if decided to "be himself" that he couldn't manipulate people like he needed to, he was well aware to be he needed to be likeable.

"Hey you!" He said with a smile.

She blushed, just as he expected her to. He was incredibly handsome, with short brown hair, and deep brown eyes. He was over six foot, and muscular. Every girl in the District had their eye on him, and he knew it. He was very good at using his looks to his advantage.

"Well, you see. A couple of the guys and I were wondering if you wanted to train with us? You know, give us some pointers? I mean, if you wanted to, that is." She said slowly, obviously taken with him.

"I'd love to honey, but I only have a little bit of time left, and since I'm the volunteer this year, its best I save my strength." He said.

"Oh. I-I- didn't know you were the volunteer. I thought the trainers were still deciding."

"Well, they told me and Rebekah it would be us this morning, they interrupted my nap to tell me!" He said with a chuckle.

"Oh, um… well…. you know, may the odds be ever in your favor, Emerald." She said softly, lowering her head.  
He stood up and lifted her chin with his hand, "I'll be alright. I wouldn't want someone as pretty as you spending a second being sad."

He wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he sounded, and then laugh at her for buying it.

But she smiled and thanked him and went back to training, her heart full of joy and hope for them being together one day.

_Yeah, that's never going to happen, "honey". _He thought with a smile.

He really wasn't sure why he was messing with her, he gained nothing from it, perhaps it's because he was just bored. That was a problem he suffered from, he had graduated from school early, eons head of his classmates and others his age. He seemed to have mastered all that he could master. So often he found himself becoming very bored because of this. So he decided to mess with peoples heads, they often didn't even realize they were being used, and he got endless amounts of entertainment from this. But entertainment is fleeting, and it is gone just as soon as you have it. What he truly wanted was that feeling he had the day he killed his parents. That sort of adrenaline rush he never felt again and craved.

Did that make him crazy? He often wondered if it did, and yet he didn't care. Crazy or not, he couldn't care less. Everyone in this District was just a puppet on his string, they danced for him as he controlled them behind a silk curtain.

All of them but the mayor.

The man that not only stood up to Emerald, but had actually made Emerald uneasy, scared even. He couldn't figure out what it was exactly, but something about that man drove Emerald insane. Maybe it's because he was the only man that really knew who Emerald was, he could see past the smile, and the kindly vibe he tried to give off.

He could see right into Emeralds soul.

Emerald hated that man more then ever, and he swore that he would make him pay.

He would make the mayor afraid to say the name "Emerald Kyle".

**The Reaping **

Rebekah hadn't seen Ric for the rest of that day, and now that she was standing in the crowd with all the other people, she still couldn't see him. There was so much she wanted to tell him,

That she was sorry.

That she loved him too.

That she wanted to be with him forever.

But this was her duty, this was her job. She had been training her entire life for this moment, this moment to prove to everyone how strong she was.

But then there was Ric.

Her Ric. The Ric that had been by her side all these years, the Ric she didn't even know she loved until today. It was like there were two parts of her, each trying to fight for what they wanted. Part of her wanted to prove herself in the Arena, the other part wanted to run to Ric's arms and never let go. She felt remarkably cold, and never had she felt more torn about something in her life. She tried to relax, and look at things logically.

She did love Ric, that much was clear. She had all along, it just took something like this for her to realize it. But as much as she loved him, she had been training for this her whole life. It wasn't just that, the Hunger Game _was _her entire life.

Besides, she was obligated to volunteer. She was chosen out of all the female tributes to fight alongside or eventually against Emerald Kyle.

As much as she loved Ric, these were undeniable facts. It was an honor she couldn't get out of if she tried. She lowered her head, deciding that it was best for her to volunteer after all. As she came to this conclusion, the red lights on the cameras turned on, and all eyes moved to the stage. Out stepped the escort for District 1 escort, Alon. He was a very short, petite man. He was covered in diamonds and jewels from head to toe. He reached foreword and grabbed the microphone, " Lets get this thing rolling!"

The crowd cheered and let out a loud applause.

After the speeches and promotional videos he whipped out the bowl of female names, and placed it on the podium.

"Sapphire Tem." Alon said with a wide smile.

Before Sapphire had a chance to get on stage, Rebekah shouted,

"I volunteer."

Nobody was surprised, but everyone clapped. Sapphire just smiled and nodded, and went back to her friends.

Alon seemed to know all along it was her, because he shouted,

"Everyone welcome Rebekah Michaels!"

The crowd cheered once more, and between the whistles and yells, she finally saw Ric.

He was staring at her, his eyes full of tears.

She wanted to run to him, to tell him she would be back.

But she stood frozen on stage, waiting for Emerald to announce himself.

* * *

Emerald smiled. He had seen Rebekah training, and had even bothered to learn her name. She was a tough fight, but nothing he felt as if she would be an easy target for him somewhere down the line. But it would be wise to get her to trust him, and follow him blindly. She would be a very good asset to have. But for now, he would just play things by ear, maybe study her a little bit. Find out what weakness's she has, and exploit them. She would be putty in his hands by the end of the week. But for now, he would just wait for Alon to announce some kids name for Emerald to volunteer for.

He announced the kids name, and for a second Emerald wanted to wait for a while, and give the kid a heart attack. But he had an image to keep up, and he finally volunteered. The boy ran back in the crowd and disappeared as Emerald made his way to the stage.

"Welcome Emerald Kyle!" Yelled Alon.

Emerald nodded at him and raised his arms and the crowd cheered. He noticed some girls in the crowd were tearing up.

He walked up to the microphone, "To the girl I never got to say I loved: I'll be back for you."

All the girls smiled, and Emerald winked at the crowd.

The beauty of that move, was that all the girls probably thought that was directed right at them. He thought he should have a little fun before he left.

As he shook the hand of Rebekah, he noticed that she didn't appear taken with him at all. Well, that ruined several of his manipulation plans. But still, getting her on his side would be the easy part.

Killing her would be the hard part.

**[End of District 1 Reaping!]**


	2. District 2 Reaping

**District 2**

**3 hours before the Reaping**

Alexandra Mason walked through the back streets of District 2, behind the shops and houses. This is where the black market business resided, the part of District 2 that the rich didn't want to acknowledge. This is a part of District 2 that Alexandra is very familiar with, she had been coming here since she was 8, just over six years ago. Her father used to come with her, but recently he hadn't really been coming at all. She hadn't decided if he trusted her to do this, or if he really was trying to distance himself from her. She shook her head at the notion, and continued on. District 2 was the District the Capitol liked to show off, it was the richest, and by far the most loyal. But Alexandra knew that the Capitol didn't think of District 2 they the were trained to believe. To the Capitol, District 2 was a valuable commodity, nothing more. They looked good on camera and never complained. But then again, the cameras didn't show this part of the District.

As Alexandra walked through the back streets, she began to feel incredibly undersized. She had long brown hair, tied in intricate braids. She was very pretty, and barely edged over 5-6. She could see that the dealers were sizing her up to be an easy target to be ripped off. But none of them realized how powerful she really was. In District 2, the schools take children that display particular skills and personalizes befitting of a Career, and they have them stay at school another four hours after everyone else gets out. This is where the train rigorously, and without mercy or remorse. Alexandra was top of her class in her age group, and she assumed that she could also easily take the older kids. There was only one tribute that she felt unsure about, and that was Felix Kingsley. He hadn't lost a bout in all the years he had been training. Not only this, but he had become deadly accurate with a spear, topping even her own skill. But she doubted that he could handle a knife as well as she could.

But no one at the black market knew of her tremendous fighting ability, and she preferred it that way. She was a Career through and through, but no one would know that here.

She found her fathers favorite dealer sitting on a bench, with his box of goodies laying beside him.

"Hello, Mortimer." Alexandra said with a smile.

He was a very old man, and he was in know mood for her shenanigans,

"Eh? You again. Whaddya want this time?" He said with a scowl.

"A months supply of rice, and that turkey I can smell from your box." She said, matching his scowl.

"I aint got no turkey, you must of gone crazy, or somin'." He said averting his eyes.

He always had a turkey, he had his people sneak out and fetch one every weekend. Alexandra had been buying ones since she was a kid, she knew it all to well.

"Well…" Sighed Mortimer, "Supposing I _do _have this turkey you were talking about. How you gonna pay for her? The way I hear it, you aint got a penny to your name."

"Well, that's just simply not true. But besides, I can pay you with something much better." She said.

Mortimer raised his eyebrow, "Yeah? What's that?"

Alexandra smiled, "Protection."

This sent Mortimer into a fit of laughter,

"Ho ho ho! You got a wicked tongue, girl! Didn't your daddy teach you not to lie!"

Alexandra whipped around, and tossed a knife at break neck speed, and stuck it firmly into an oak tree, nearly thirty yards away.

"I wasn't lying." She said.

He stopped laughing, and then turned to her squinting his eye.

"Where did you get that?" He said quietly.

People weren't allowed to carry weapons in any of the districts, on penalty of death.

"Where did you get that turkey?" She said, with a coy smile.

Mortimer leaned his head back with a hearty laugh.

"I like you even more then I liked your dad! Let's talk business." He said.

Alexandra nodded and retrieved her knife. When she got back, she saw he had wrapped the turkey in paper.

"Here's your bird. I'll have one of my men drop off the rice at _exactly_ midnight, if you aint outside your house, you aint getting it." He said, glaring at her.

"Sounds fair." She said, eying the bird.

"But here's what you got to do for me. There's a couple other dealers that have been messing around in my spot. They follow my men out in the woods, and shoot them turkeys before my men even got a chance. They hang around the fenced area, like bugs to a light. I need you to go talk to em. Show them that knife trick you showed me. Think you can handle that?" Spoke Mortimer, very seriously.

"The Reaping is in just a few hours." Alexandra replied.

"Oh right, that mess. Well, I guess you got to go to that. But presuming you aren't chosen, I want you talking to those boys tonight!"

Alexandra nodded, and stuffed the turkey under her jacket and started for home. As she walked, she thought about why she was doing this.

For food, of course. That was obvious, but then again, they had enough money to get by. She didn't need to go through all this for just a little extra food.

Then she thought about her little brother, Brian

Her mother died giving birth to him, and her father was to devastated to do anything. So in many ways, she had to raise Brian. He was eight now, but still very much like a young child. She would do anything for him, including selling her fighting abilities to see that look on his face when he realized he was actually going to be full after dinner. That's why she did what she did, and that's why she would be going back to the black market for the rest of her life. She loved her brother, and she would do absolutely anything for him.

She would even kill someone if she had to, and by that look in Mortimer's eye, that might not be to far off.

**District 2 **

**5 hours before the Reaping**

It would be way to easy. The three of them weren't expecting the flurry of attacks like he was planning.

They weren't expecting Felix Kingsley to be so fast.

Before the first one even had his fists up, Felix clocked him the nose with his elbow. The second boy threw a punch, and Felix dodged that easily, and with the same momentum threw an uppercut. The boy toppled to the ground holding his stomach. The third boy took a step back, surprised his comrades had been taken down so easily. Then he decided to go for it, and took his stance.

"I wouldn't do that." Laughed Felix.

"What?" Stuttered the boy.

"You're stance is ridiculous. You're totally unbalanced. If I lead with all of my weight it wouldn't matter what you did, I would have the advantage." Replied Felix.

Then without warning he leapt at the boy, bringing him to the ground. With the same quickness and malice as before, he began to beat the boy severely.

"Felix! Get off of him!"

He turned to see his Selene standing by him, with tears in her eyes.

"You told me they were teasing you…" Felix responded, confused.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that you can do…..THIS!" She said pointing to the boys lying on the ground moaning in pain.

"All I'm doing is protecting you. Besides, these jerks deserved it." Frowned Felix.

Selene wiped the tears out of her eyes,

"Nobody made you sheriff, Felix. You can't just beat up everyone who deserves it. Because, guess what, Felix? There are a lot of people that deserve it, more then you could ever possibly know. But that doesn't give you the right!"

"I'm not trying to play 'hero'. I'm just trying to protect my little sister." Felix replied with a scowl.

Selene whipped around and began to walk away.

"I don't need your protection. Did you ever think about that?" She yelled and stormed off.

Felix frowned, he actually hadn't ever thought about that. He had been protecting her since she was little, as far as he was concerned that was his job.

The boy he was beating moaned.

"You alright? Yeah, you're alright. Get up." Said Felix, giving the boy a light slap to the face.

"I can't." Said the boy, with tears in his eyes.

"Sure you can. I was just hitting you in the face, your legs should work fine." Felix said.

But the boy still just lay there.

"Geez. C'mon, up you go." Grunted Felix as he lifted the boy on his feet.

He looked over and saw the other boys had run home, so he begrudgingly grabbed the boys face, inspecting it.

"Yeah. You're going to be pretty ugly tomorrow, I worked you over pretty good. Just go home and put some fresh meat on your eye, that should bring some of the swelling down. As far as the cuts, just make sure to wash them out really well. You don't want it to get infected."

The boy nodded.

Felix grabbed the boys collar and pulled him close,

"If you ever tease my sister again, I will not hesitate to kill you. Do you under stand?"

The boy nodded again, and ran most likely towards his home.

Felix smiled, of course he wouldn't kill him. But fear was a better tool than destruction, and he had learned that early on. He had to put the fear of death on these kids, it was the only way to get them to stop.

He decided to catch up with Selene, and it was only a few minutes before he was by her side.

"You want to talk about it?" He asked, sticking his hands in his pocket.

"Nope." Selene responded, holding her head high.

"Okay, then. We can just walk."

So they just walked, for about ten minutes and not in any particular direction. Felix was going to give up on her, when she finally broke the silence.

"It's just that I'm 13 now, and you can't always be looking out for me." Selene said.

Felix shrugged, "You're my sister. That's my job, I don't care if your 13 or 40. That's what I'm going to do."

Selene frowned, "Then you have no respect for me at all! I can handle myself, you know."

"No you can't! There were three of them, and they were all 17, like me. I'm the only one in this village who can fight three guys at once." Laughed Felix.

"That's another thing! You think you're such a good fighter, and that you're sooo smart. You can't honestly think you're the only person in the entirety of District 2 that can fight like that."

"Well, to be fair, I did rank the highest in the school I.Q test, and I also was captain of the wrestling team. So, that kind of invalidates your argument….And yes I do think I'm the only one."

"I didn't say it wasn't true. What I'm trying to say: is try being a little humble. Any chance you get to flaunt your intelligence or physicality, you flaunt it with ravenous vigor. I'm surprised you can find a hat to fight your inflated head."

"You're no different."

"Felix…You and I are polar opposites."

Although Felix disagreed, he couldn't help but see her point. At a glance no one could really tell they were siblings. She was very short, and somewhat petite. He was over six foot, and very muscular. She had her mothers long, blonde hair, while he inherited his fathers black curly hair. Although, they were both very attractive. But their personalities were all to similar, and that bothered Selene more then anything in the world. It's not that she didn't love Felix, but she wanted to be very independent. When she was younger she used to hide behind him when meeting new people, always in his shadow. He cast a big enough shadow for her to hide behind for years. But recently, she had been trying to reinvent herself. At least, this is what Felix could ascertain. He was fairly good at reading people, and figuring out motives. But reading Selene was like staring into a mirror, and like what people do when they stare in mirrors, they are often confused by what they want to see, rather then what they are seeing. In his mind, she loved him more then the world, and despite her protests, deep down wanted his protection and love.

"So there." Selene said, crossing her arms.

"So. What _were _they teasing you about?" Felix said.

"Mom and Dad mainly. They asked if I wanted to beg them for money, or if Mom had any more pearls to sell." She said, obviously cross.

Their parents used to be the riches family in town, known for spending their money extravagantly. His father was a weapon manufacturer for the Capitol, and he had been very successful at it. Unfortunately, his father had made some bad business decisions, and it was unknown to Felix whether his father lost his money, or had the Capitol taken it away. But either way, they had gone from the richest family, to near the poorest. Their mother had even taken up selling her old family pearls and jewels to afford to feed the family.

"They don't know anything." Muttered Felix.

"What do you mean?" Asked Selene.

"They don't realize what I've come to realize. That money is worthless, and that social class is nothing but a fantasy that the rich came up with to cover their inadequacies. The real currency is fear, and that is truly earned. Those boys are idiotic, and they can have their money. They can die a sad pathetic life, writhing around in their _wealth._ " Said Felix, clinching his fists.

Selene frowned, "I don't like it when you talk like that."

Felix seemed to come out of a daze, and responded,

"I know. I'm sorry Selene. Lets go home and get ready for tonight."

**The Reaping **

The turkey didn't take long to cook, and she made sure to conceal the fires. Once it was finished, both Alexandra and Brian were famished. Her father joined them, took a few bites, and then went back to his room. Unfortunately, their meal was cut short, because she could see the potential tributes gathering outside.

"Well, I have to go now, Brian. But I'll be back after a while, okay?" She said, cleaning the turkey off of his face.

He nodded and ran over to play with a toy she had carved him a few years back.

He looked so happy, and so innocent. It was amazing that this world hadn't affected him like it had with everyone else. She was glad, but terrified for the day that it would. She quickly threw on some of her nicest clothes, and ran out to join the crowd. She had seen the other districts on her TV, and she always noted how scared everyone looked. But here, no one really stood a chance of being chosen, because every year some career would volunteer. So, everyone came in apprehensive, but calm. Only a few careers seemed at unease, most likely a debate on who would volunteer.

That's when she noticed her teacher, Brutus, come up to her. He had won the Hunger Games when Alexandra was child, and had been training her alongside the other careers for years.

"Brutus." She said.

"Alexandra." He replied.

They both were quiet for a moment when Brutus broke the silence.

"You're going to volunteer." He said.

Alexandra was shocked, this wasn't her year!

"But, what about Melody? We decided weeks ago this was her year."

Brutus frowned, "She broke her leg yesterday, she needs to wait a year. You're the next best, so you should consider it an honor."

With that he was gone, not even giving her time to argue.

As the others brushed past her, she was still having a hard time excepting it.

It's one thing preparing for the Games, its another knowing your going to participate.

"_I guess I can't help Mortimer after all". _She thought.

* * *

Felix was getting ready for the Reaping, and was getting tired of hearing his parents complain of their new life.

"I had to sell grandma Ima's gold necklace today." His mother said, holding a glass of scotch to her head.

His father sat in his chair, smoking a pipe, "Well, she was an old pain anyway, good riddance to her and her damn jewelry." He said angrily.

That's the way things were now, his mother would complain, and his father would get mad about everything. He tried to stay away from the house most days.

"Can I talk to you Felix?" His father said, putting out his pipe.

Felix nodded, and followed his father into the old study.

"You need to volunteer this year, Felix." His father said, putting his hand on Felix's shoulder.

What did he mean? He knew this wasn't Felix's year.

"I can't, Brutus chose Brock. He's a year older and has been preparing longer." Felix replied.

His father shook his head, "You know I don't give a damn what that ape Brutus thinks, I told you had to volunteer, and that's final."

Felix lowered his head, "Why is it so important this year? I know we don't have any money, but sending me to my possible death on the off chance you can save more of grandma Ima's jewelry, is wrong."

His father slapped him, "Curse you Felix, its about your sister!"

Felix's face was warm from the slap, but he could of swore there was a cold chill.

"What do you mean?" He said, glaring at his father.

"There's a man from Capitol that saw her during one of my trips on business. We talked about possibly ….setting up a _Marriage _proposal from him." His father muttered.

Felix grabbed his father and slammed him against the wall.

"She's thirteen, you sick bastard!" He shouted.

His father raised his hands, " You don't understand, this man is very high up in the Capitol, he could give her a comfortable life, not to mention get me back in business. The Capitol is very different then here."

Felix slammed him against the wall again, "I don't care how different they are, she's a kid! She's my sister, and your daughter, and you want to _sell_ her, just so you can have _money _again?"

With a quick movement, he punched his father, sending him flying to the ground.

Everything went silent, and they said nothing. He stared at the his father lying on the ground, and he saw him in a different light. No longer was he the man he looked up to as a child. Now he was staring at a spoiled old man, who didn't care for anyone but himself.

Finally, his father spoke up, "If you want your sister to stay here, then you had better volunteer." He said.

Felix went to storm out of the room when his father shouted something else.

"Felix, you had better win!"

* * *

Alexandra stood in the crowd, and even though she was terrified, part of her was at peace. The fear of the Reaping had a lot do with the unknown's of it all. But now, that had been taken away. She still felt incredibly unprepared, but she would be able to adapt. After all, she had been adapting to the world her entire life.

As the cameras lights went red, Ira, the escort from District 2 stepped out. She was a girl in her 20s, and she was dressed very provocatively. She wore a one piece suit of some sort, that had holes cut through out. This paired along with the fact that she was very beautiful was enough to make the boys blush.

"Welcome, welcome!" She shouted.

"Brutus, you are very handsome, as always." She said, winking at the uncomfortable victor.

While she was going over the necessary speeches, Alexandra was planning out her entire strategy for the Hunger Games. She was good at climbing, that was obvious, she hoped there were trees of some sort. Her perfect weapon would be a knife, obviously. She wondered if she should team up with Brock, who was supposed to be the male volunteer. She spent so much time thinking, she had missed Ira calling out the name of the tribute. The poor girl was halfway up the stage, and in a mess of tears and snot.

"I volunteer!" Shouted Alexandra, hoping it wasn't too late.

The crowd turned toward her, not in any form of shock, but more in a surprise it took so long.

The girl that was chosen ran back toward who Alexandra assumed was her sister and burst into tears. Alexandra made her way past the crowd, and onto the stage.

"What's your name, sweetie?" Asked Ira.

"Alexandra Mason, and I am going to bring District 2 honor in the Games." She said, loudly.

The crowd cheered, and Ira clapped and smiled.

If only they knew that Alexandra could care less about District 2. All she cared about now, was trying to survive this ordeal.

* * *

Felix knew it was going to be her, he had heard earlier in the day that Melody had broken her leg. This girl was tough, no kidding. It would be wise to join up with her immediately.

Then he realized that he had already made his decision, he would volunteer. Of course he would, he would do anything to save Selene. But his plan was a little different then his fathers, if he did in fact win, he wouldn't help his father at all. He would take Selene and move across the District, it wasn't as far as he wanted, but its as far as he could get. His father didn't deserve a single thing in this world, and that including Selene.

Before Ira had even reached into the bowl containing the boys names, he shouted,

"Don't even bother. I volunteer for whomever you were going to choose." He said, loudly.

Ira turned to of the peacekeepers and mouthed, is that allowed?

He nodded, and she turned back to the mike, " Well, patience isn't a virtue for you is it?"

The crowd laughed.

"No Ma'am, it is not." He said with a smile.

The crowd laughed even harder.

He ran up on stage, and gave a wave and smile to the crowd.

"What's your name, handsome?" Ira asked.

"The name is Felix Kingsley, and don't any of you dare forget it." He said pointing to the crowd.

They all cheered, and Ira along with them.

"Alright you two, shake hands!" She said.

They even barely noticed each other as they shook hands.

Afterwards, Felix scanned the crowd for Selene. She was near the back, and her face was completely blank.

He wondered if she knew all of this was for her. To keep her safe.

After all, that's what big brothers do.

**[End of District 2 Reaping! Any advice, thoughts or anything at all, please leave a review!]**


	3. District 3 Reaping

**12 hrs before the Reaping for the 67th Hunger Games**

**Bellows of District 3 **

" I hate you."

The words resonated in his mind. Such cruel, biting words. Its odd to imagine that three words could hurt this bad. Wait…..Hurt? Aron Pol thought about that for a second. Hurt is what he should be feeling right now. Such unbearable emotional pain that he just aught to break down and cry. But these words had seemingly little effect on him at least on his exterior, he often suspected that they would crawl their way into his ear. He had trained his mind for this moment. They are just words after all, just inflections of the tongue that produce familiar noise that his brain translates into meaning. Then the whole silly notion of emotion kicks. Some part of his brain tells him how is supposed to feel based on the seemingly droll noises of the human tongue and vocal cords. Another odd notion: That your mind predicts how you are _supposed _to feel. That's what causes petty arguments. Most people rely on this rather then how they actually feel, but not Aron. He never really liked being told what to do, even if it was subconscious suggestion. That's all it was, subconscious suggestion that the words of the much larger boy in front of him held in significant meaning for Aron. These were just words. So why does it hurt? Aron had trained himself for it not to hurt. These were just meaningless words. Words spoken by the boy that Aron had idolized as an younger child. These words were spoken by the boy that had practically raised him.

These words were spoken by his brother.

Aron Pol stared down his brother, who was 5 inches taller and much closer to being a man then Aron had achieved.

"You don't mean it." Spoke Aron softly.

His brother lowered his head, " Why wouldn't I?"

"Because, Marko," Continued Aron, " You just….don't"

Marko had tears in his eyes, " That's your answer? If your so smart why can't you come up with a better answer then that, little brother? Why not use that brain of yours, little brother!" Each "little brother" had a mocking tune to it, intentionally trying to sting Aron.

Aron paused, and breathed in deep. He wasn't tall, or particularly muscular. He was only 13, and had shaggy brown hair. His brother however, being 16, was much more of a physical presence. He had brown hair, and that was the only thing he Aron shared. He was 6 foot with some over time, and very strong. Working in the factories had kept him mentally and physically acute.

But not like Aron.

Aron was smart, too smart. Smarter then most are willing to admit. Smart enough to be singled out by every school kid. Even the teachers hated him, though in a less obvious way. Hate was a word that Aron had become familiar with over the period of his life. The kids say it, the teachers say it, even his father has said it. But not Marko, not before today. His mind is telling him to be upset, he begrudgingly agrees.

" Where did this come from, Marko?" He chokes out.

Marko stands up and turns his back to Aron, to upset to face him.

" I talked to dad today." Muttered Marko.

A pang of guilt struck Aron, his mind flashes to a bloodied piece of metal. Just laying there on the floor of the factory. A piece of some Capitol door lock, freshly smelted into shape. …..such a little thing. A little, seemingly insignificant thing. Why is it covered in blood?

He shuts it out as quickly as it came.

" You talk to father everyday. I fail to see the connection." Replies Aron.

Marko whips around, " You know that's not what I meant, damn it! Quit with your cynical crap!"

Aron reluctantly holds his tongue.

Marko stops for a moment, and his eyes tell the story. Aron already knows what he's going to say before he even opens his mouth.

"You watched her die…He told me that you… just watched her die."

Aron lowers his head.

Marko grabs him by the shoulders, "Did you?" He screams, tears streaming down his face and his voice choking.

Aron says nothing, but continues to get tossed back and forth by Marko.

Marko grabs Aron's face.

"Did you watch…." Marko's voice is caught by an apparent urge to weep.

"Did you watch Mom die?" He asks, almost in a whisper.

Aron looks up, his tears match his brothers. He answers with one word. Because even though words are just simple little rhythmic patterns and fluctuations of the tongue, they are powerful. This word was no different.

He lifted his head and said, " Yes."

* * *

**11 hrs before the Reaping for the 67th Hunger Games**

**Outskirts of District 3**

The flower smelled almost as beautiful as it looked. The maroon tint around the petal, with a slightly yellowish coloring within maroon wall. She didn't dare pick it, it was to…. Perfect. It seemed happy almost, content on where it was. Even its little leafs appeared to be raised with joy and praising this beautiful day. Ali smiled as her friend, Cleora remarked, " Wow! That's one of the healthiest Purple Daisies yet!"

Ali smiled, it was true. They lived in District 3, a place of great technology. However, there were numerous down sides to this. Supply meant demand, and they had to reach that demand. They were the leading technological minds of all the districts. Primarily, they did two things. Create and invent the little gadgets for Capitol uses, and then mass produce them in the deep bellows of a smog producing factory. These things combined had nearly killed all the surrounding plant life and animal life. But at least once a week Ali and her best friend Cleora would go as far as they could, to nearly the edge of the fence, and sit. Usually they would talk, about things that they couldn't talk about in the district. They would sit their, picking and gazing at the beauty of the flowers that had escaped the smog and pollution of the factories. Cleora picked a different Purple Daisy,

" Did you know that this flower doesn't grow in any other district?" She asked.

Ali smiled, " Where did you hear that?"

Cleora smiled back, " My dad told me! You know, when he traveled to the Capitol for his invention, they told him all sorts of things."

Ali gazed at the flower. It seemed odd that other people wouldn't get to experience its beauty, and she realized how little she knew about other districts. She often stared into the stars and wondered who else was staring at them.

Ali was 14, had silky brunette hair. She was very beautiful, but would be the last to admit this. Mainly because she was very tall for her age, and her long hair reached nearly her stomach which only added an illusion of more height. She was on the thin side, but who wasn't in district 3? Food was hard to get, and she was lucky that she hadn't had to take any Tesserae up to this point. She was smart, but quiet. She never has realized the amount of eyes that turn as she walks, nor the amount of infatuated boys she would have at her disposal. She had a depth to her beauty that people who don't have it crave, and those who have it don't even know. Right now, all she wanted to focus on was her friend Cleora, and the Purple Daisies. Cleora was vastly different in every feasible aspect, short, blonde, and so pleasant and approachable that nearly everyone vied for her attention and her friendship. But somehow in this crazy world they had become friends, and had become an ear to listen to rants about the Capitol, and a shoulder to cry on as their classmates and comrades were plucked and ultimately killed in the Hunger Games.

Ali had her own bitter experiences with the Hunger Games. Her older was brother was whisked away a few years back, and had defied the Capitol by refusing to kill anyone, and trying to hide and bury weapons. The Gamemakers set fire to the woods he was resting in and he burned to death right before her eyes. If this wasn't enough, when the Hunger Games were over, a troupe of Peacekeepers went to her home, and threatened to kill her and her family for poisoning the minds of the youth of District 3. Her little brother, 8 at the time, tried to attack one of the peace keepers who was beating their father. They dragged him onto the streets and shot him. She was only 9, and even though her and her father were spared, these events still haunt her. She stares at the perfect Purple Daisy, contently sitting in its little patch of dirt. She didn't dare pick it, like the Capitol picks its tributes. Its possible that if she did pick it, that it would survive. But District 3 water is so muddy, and the heat of the factories would quickly cause the flower to lose its petals and inevitably; it would die. That's what life was like for a District 3 tribute, you hold off as long as you can but everyone is betting against you. Only a few tributes from District 3 had ever won the Hunger Games, but the most famous were Wiress and Beetee. These were also unfortunately the last to win. She feared for whomever was chosen this evening.

"Who do you think is going to be chosen?" Mused Cleora, obviously seeing that Ali was distracted.

"It shouldn't be either of us, we only have our names in 3 times." Replied Ali.

Clearo nodded, " What about Eiry?"

" Eiry has her name in 42 times." Answered Ali. Eiry was a small and very poor girl from the outskirts of District 3.

Cleora nodded, " And Marko has his name in 30….something."

" Marko would do well in the games." Ali said, but this was somewhat bitter. Her and Marko had become friends recently, sitting together at lunch. He was handsome, sweet and caring. He had been caring for his strange little brother for a long time, she had been trying to get the courage to talk to Marko. She had watched him for so long, hoping he would talk to her. But now, when she finally has gotten close to him, it would be cruel for the Hunger Games to take him away.

_But then again, _She thought, staring at the flowers,_ That's just what the Hunger Games is. Cruel and unforgiving._

* * *

**The Reaping**

Ali's father doesn't even come to say good bye to her. He just sits in his chair and as she gets ready, he just nods to her as she leaves. This doesn't really bother her, he has been distant since her brothers died. It doesn't help that her mother died of cancer that very same year. She had heard that in the Capitol, cancer was non existent, and if you did get it somehow, you could be cured in a day. But not here in District 3.

She was corralled into the group of kids and teenagers, all dressed as neatly as they could. She spots Cleora across the crowd, she appears frightened and out of place. Her hair is ill maintained, and she is biting her nails. Her eyes are puffy, and Ali can tell she has been crying all night. Ali wished she could comfort her, but Cleora has been placed in a different side of the crowd for some reason. The groups of people form a line, and Ali can see ahead that they are taking blood samples. She earnestly looks around, searching for Marko. She seems him, he is a row and a half to her right. She smiles at him, and he gives a faint smile back. Although she can tell that something is bothering him. She shook her head, it was obviously the games. She had just never seen him like this. So….. distant. Even when she didn't know him at all, he had that look on his face, just a look that showed he cared. Even if he didn't know you he cared…somehow. But that look was gone. Only thing that was left was a look of sorrow. She decided she would talk to him about it later, maybe even invite him to her and Cleora's spot where they pick Purple Daisies. Maybe he would like that.

The stage is already set up, and at this point nearly everyone is set in their positions and she sees the red light of the camera come on. Out walks Yume Kelda the escort and official Hunger Games representation of District 3. Ali smirked at his ridiculous outfit this year. He was known for his strange style choices and this year was no different. He was in his late 30's, yet he wore a bright hot pink suit, with lots of gold stars and half moons all up and down the suit bottom and jacket. She realized that it was actually a one piece. His shoes were high heels, that added an extra few inches. His hair was a bright orange, which he wore in a long pony tail that fell to his rear. He had a neatly combed mustache, thin and hanging on his lip like an anorexic caterpillar. He spoke in an effeminate Capitol accent, " Welcome young people! To the 67th annual Hunger Games!" As he shouted the last bit he raised his hands into the air and waited for a response from the crowd.

There was none.

Ali smiled, the crowd was defiant enough not to get into his little game for the cameras. Besides, they would probably just fill in a roaring crowd during the 15 second delay of live T.V.

Yume went on to talk about the uprising and other such things, and the history of the Hunger Games. He then motioned to Beetee and Wiress who were sitting on stage with him.

" A hand of applause for your previous winners! Come on! You know who they are!" He shouted and the crowd gave a quite clap. Yume smiled, as if that were a victory in his book.

"Okay! Well, now is the time, to announce the lucky man and woman for the 67th Hunger Games!" He said, and smiled at the camera. Ali held her breath as he struggled his way over to the large bowl holding the names of her friends and class mates surely heading to the slaughter. Her name was only in there 3 times, but she couldn't help getting nervous.

Yume struggled with getting a paper slip out, and eventually had to get a young man who appeared to be a peacekeeper to grab his side and hold him steady. Yume giggled a little bit, seemingly to enjoying this moment. He reached in and grabbed a slip of paper, and walked back over to the podium.

Ali closed her eyes, hoping he would just announce it. She thought about Marko and Cleora, and how they would soon all be together in the Purple Daisy patch. She imagined one day, after many weeks of telling stories with him. He would plant a kiss on her, and then shyly apologize. She would forgive him with a kiss in return. It would be perfect, and in this moment, she could be happy, truly happy once again.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her back. She turns around and sees Cleora, who had worked her way over to her. She was crying, and tried to say something but couldn't . She just simply pointed to the stage. Ali turned around and saw Yume staring at her, with his hand open, gesturing her to come.

_They called my name. Its me._

It hit her, and she couldn't breathe.

" Come on, honey! Get yourself up here!" Said Yume in a cheery but obviously anxious voice.

Ali slowly started walking toward the stage, her mind racing. She just realized she needed to figure everything out later, as for now, she has to look strong. She works her way on stage, feels the eyes of everyone in the crowd.

She looks and sees Marko in the crowd. His averts his eyes and lowers his head. She doesn't know how to react to this quite yet, she is almost relieved when Yume speaks up.

" Welcome Ali Snider! And now, for the boys."

Ali stands, terrified, yet seemingly calm. She just hopes to god it isn't Marko's name that called. She whispers a silent prayer to whomever would answer it, and waits.

* * *

Aron doesn't know this girl. He had seen her talking to Marko many times throughout the last few months. He studies her for a second, and he senses a lot more sorrow then fear. Sorrow was bad, sorrow got you sorry for yourself. Maybe even hating yourself. Fear was good, when your afraid, it means you still care for your life. You want to keep living. Fear keeps you on edge, aware. He had plenty of fear right now. Fear for The Hunger Games, but even worse fear of the unknown. Fear of what his brother now knew. As soon as Aron had said yes, Marko grabbed him and threw him out of the house. He hadn't seen him since. He was afraid of what his life was going to be like now. He was afraid that Marko really did hate him. What if Marko tried to kill him? No, Marko would never do that, at least not directly. Aron shook his head, this should be the least of his worries. He looked for Marko in the crowd, but didn't see him. Yume walked across the stage toward the bowl with the boys names in it. Yume pulled one out, and walked over to the stage. Each click of the high heel's was like the tick tock of an old grandfather clock. Suddenly, Aron knew. He knew he was going to be selected. Some how, he knew. It almost made sense some how. Everything in his life lead up to this point. Every thing had steered him to this moment, put him in this spot. It made sense, in a sick kind of way. He watched her die, now everyone was going to watch him die.

" Aron Pol." Chimed Yume.

Aron nodded, and turned to the girl behind him. He didn't know her, and he wasn't exactly sure why he said this, but he turned to her and said, " Yes." With that he ran up on stage, trying to seem eager about the whole thing.

" Well, aren't you an eager little boy?" Said Yume in a tone that unsettled Aron.

He stared over at the girl Yume called Ali. She seemed a lot more upset then before, he was curious what his choosing had to do with this. Suddenly, he remembered what Marko had always told him as a child. Marko had always said that if Aron was chosen that he would take his place. That he would volunteer. He had told him this every Hunger Games up to this point to stop him from crying. He knew that Marko wouldn't do this now, he doesn't really blame him. What Aron did was unforgivable, at least that's how it felt.

" Alright you two! Shake hands!" Chirped Yume.

Aron stared into the girls eyes that would need him dead if she wanted to live.

He shook her hand, and she did something that unnerved him more than anything.

She smiled at him. That smile said a thousand things, "I'm sorry for this.", "Its going to be okay." "YOUR going to be okay." He didn't know how a smile could say all this, or why she would waste her pity or care on him. He ripped his hand away, shaken. He glared at her, but her reassuring smile continued. Suddenly, only five words came into his head.

_I think I hate you._

**End of District 3 Reaping**


	4. District 4 Reaping

**District 4 **

**5 hours before the Reaping.**

_Crack_

_Crack_

_Crack  
_

The repetitious noise of training. Angela Odair was quite used to the sound of weapons hitting wooden dummies. This time she was the one wielding a makeshift sword and striking the helpless wooden man. She had spent hours toiling over the thing, trying to come up with new and faster ways to hit vital points. Every now and then she would spin the dummy, and duck underneath its arms and strike up underneath where its armpit would be. This time, she leapt foreword, and with a mighty swing, skewered the head off of the dummy with one clean cut.

"That's pretty impressive." Said a voice behind her.

She whipped around to see her cousin, Finnick Odair.

"A little over kill, perhaps? The poor guy doesn't even have a weapon." Finnick noted, pointing to the empty hand on the dummy.

Angela tossed her weapon to the ground,

"Whatever it takes, right? If I'm in the Hunger Games I wouldn't stop for someone without a weapon. It's all about survival, it would be foolish to think otherwise."

Finnick laughed, " I was kidding, Angela. You're so serious all the time. It's impossible to make you laugh."

"Laughing didn't win you the Hunger Games two years ago, and it won't do anything for me either." Scoffed Angela.

Finnick shrugged, "Well, no, it didn't win me the Hunger Games. But you have to keep things in perspective. The odds are insurmountably in your favor, you haven't taken any tessarae in your life, but most people your age have-"

"Neither did you." Angela interrupted.

"Yes….but that was just plain bad luck. But you have been lucky your whole life."

"What are you getting at?" Asked Angela, curious.

"I'm just saying, don't live like you are absolutely going to be in the Hunger Games. You can train, and still enjoy a joke with your favorite cousin every now and then."

Angela smiled.

"There you go! That's the spirit!" Laughed Finnick.

It was moments like this when Angela realized how much her and her cousin were alike. They were both very beautiful, had striking bronze hair, and were very muscular after hours and hours of training. They were also very close in age, Angela was 15, and Finnick was 16. He had won the Hunger Games when he was 14, and she remembered and was in awe of every second of it. As much as they looked alike, there personalities were quite different. Angela was very serious, always training and trying to better herself. She didn't have very many friends, because she didn't have time or energy for such things. Besides, she enjoyed training more then she enjoyed gossiping and giggling about boys. She wasn't unkind, but she was able to ascertain what was important, and what was fruitless. This made her a capable but unwilling leader. She definitely preferred her own company. Finnick was entirely different, before the Hunger Games he was quite popular. It wasn't unlike him to make a friend in minutes of first knowing somebody, and he had many to show for it. He was also known as quite the flirt, and the women of District 4 were always falling head over heels for him. But Angela noticed that after he won the Games, he changed. For the first year after the Victory tours, he had an air of melancholy about him. He refused to talk about his time in the capitol, and would often weep himself to sleep. But eventually he was able to work himself back into at least a shadow of his former self, and she would see glimpses of the old Finnick, every now and then.

"Why are you using a sword anyway? District 4 is known for our powerful trident wielders, myself included." Asked Finnick.

"I'm quicker with a sword, I couldn't imagine lugging a trident around during the entirety of the Hunger Games." Angela answered, frowning.

Finnick picked up her makeshift sword.

"What is this made out of?" He asked.

"Stone. I carved it myself, the handle is made out of drift wood I found on the beach." Said Angela, pointing to the handle.

"If the peace keepers saw that you had this, you would could be in serious trouble." He replied, handing it back.

Angela smiled, "So what were you saying about taking yourself seriously?"

"There's a difference between learning to enjoy a joke, and seeing the danger in something like this. You know that, Angela."

Angela shrugged, " I've had this for a long time, they haven't caught me yet."

"That doesn't mean that they won't. You don't have to do what I say, but please, try to listen."

Angela sighed, "If it really bothers you all that much I guess I can train at night."

"Well, its better then before, I guess. I'd rather you'd train in the gym. That's what its there for." Sighed Finnick.

Angela walked over and tossed the sword on the ground and covered it with foliage.

"You know I hate the gym. I prefer to train alone." She said.

Finnick walked over and put his hand on her shoulder.

"There may be a time when that isn't an option. Just think about that." He said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

Angela nodded, unsure what he meant.

With that, he waved her goodbye, and left. Once again she was alone with the training dummy. She looked at its decapitated body, and she wondered what Finnick meant.

Did he mean that if she was chosen for the Hunger Games, that she couldn't play the lone wolf card? That she would have to get peoples help near the beginning, like he did? She sighed, because she knew that no matter what happened, no matter how hard she trained, that her fatal flaw was that she couldn't and wouldn't join or be with anyone else then herself. It's not that she was selfish, its just that she only trusted herself. She wondered if that's what Finnick meant. She decided to think about it later, and she starting walking home.

**District 4**

**3 hours before the reaping. **

Mason Videl lay on the stone ground, the ocean roars behind him.

He can smell the air that the oceans breaths, he can hear the soft splash of the waves hitting the rocks. He feels the misty breeze tickling his face.

But more importantly, Mason Videl can taste the blood in his mouth.

The pain to his face is bad, but it's the shot against the back of his head that causes his eyes to go black. He is sure the rock underneath him will be stained with his blood. He looks up to see his brother, Marty, standing above him.

"Get up, little brother." He says, reaching his hand down.

Right when Mason reaches for it, Marty pulls away, causing Mason to fall onto his head again.

"How in the world are you going to survive the Hunger Games when you can't even sit up?" Chuckled Marty.

Mason jumped up, "You punched me in the face, you ass. So excuse me for falling over. Besides, this isn't my year to volunteer. It's yours."

Marty shrugged and began to walk away.

It was true, his father had finally decided Marty was fit enough to volunteer. It was last year when Marty was 17, and Mason was 14 that Marty was planning on volunteering. But their father just said what he said every year,

"Your not ready. Let's try for next year."

Mason knew this was just his father's subconscious way of trying to protect them. But Marty took it as an insult. The two of them always trained hard, but Marty was a completely different person after that. There were times when he would just beat Mason senseless under the guise of training. Mason would try to fight back of course, but Marty was older and much stronger. Mason wasn't one to lose fights, but Marty was a possessed man when he trained, and Mason was the one to try and tame him.

He never did.

Between being 15, his messy red hair, and his wide brimmed glasses, nobody really pegged Mason as a threat. But beneath all that lay endless hours of hard training, and the bruises and scars his brother gave him. Mason was elusively strong, and faster then most would believe. Blind as a bat without his glasses, but whenever he trained he would tie a string behind his head, connecting the two ends of the glasses. It worked very well for the most part, but they had seen they had seen better days. Right now, the string was broken. Most likely broke when his head collided with the ground. Luckily he had made a mental note of where they had fallen, and it was quick work to feel around and find them. He crawled his way over to the edge of the cliff and hung his legs over the edge. The water rages underneath him, about ten feet below his hanging toes. The waves are so violent, he almost feels they could bring down the cliff he is sitting on. It was majestic and terrifying it its own way. He stood up, facing the raging blue fury.

Then he leapt into the foaming mouth of the ocean, shooting through the water like a bullet. His eyes burned as he went deeper and deeper. He could feel the power of the waves trying to pull him towards the rocky wall of the cliff, if he let it, he would be killed on contact. He used the momentum of the dive, and swam lower, grabbing onto the rocky ground. With all his strength, he began to pull himself along the rocks, and away from the cliff wall. The power of the water was constantly pulling him backward, but through strength and determination, he was able to gain ground slowly but surely. Having grown up by the ocean, he had the distinct ability to hold his breath for an extended amount of time. He could hold it thirty seconds longer Marty could, which caused never ending jealously by his brother. As he got further and further away from the cliff wall, he could feel his chest getting heavy. Not only this but his arms were getting weaker, and he soon guessed he wouldn't be able to go on. So, with one final burst of energy, he propelled himself foreword, and whipped out a knife he had been carrying by his side. He shot foreword, and struck out with his knife. He could feel that the knife had stuck onto something, and using the knife as a handle, he was able to pull himself forward. He gasped for air as he lifted his head above the water. His knife had stuck into a log that was jammed against the rock wall, perfectly nestled between two large rocks. He pulled himself onto the log, and pulled the knife out of his wooden savior.

"You never miss do you?" Said a voice above him.

Mason looked up to see Hara Rain standing on a rock ten feet above him.

Hara Rain had been Mason's friend for a long time. She was his age, 15, and had long untamed black hair. Most of the people in the village found her very off putting, and tom boyish. But her and Mason had always gotten along very well.

" Not really." Answered Mason, still out of breath.

With a quick move, Hara jumped down to join him.

"I told you how dangerous this was, imagine if the knife didn't stick, or if one of the rocks you hold onto came loose." Hara said, obviously concerned.

"None of that has ever happened, and I've been doing this for years. It's the best work out I know. Nothing builds endurance and stamina like a life threatening situation. It's impossible to give up or take a rest with this. If I did, I'd be dead in a second." Replied Mason, wringing some of the water out of his hair.

"Where are your glasses?" Anxiously asked Hara.

Mason held them up with his left hand.

"You did that with one hand?"

"Not exactly, I tied what was left of the string to the pocket of my pants."

"So, you did it blind?"

"Essentially, yes."

"You're an idiot."

"Possibly, though everything else I do tends to prove the opposite. But you know, agree to disagree and all that."

Hara chuckled, and helped him up.

"So, how did you know it was me?" Asked Hara, wiping some dirt of his shirt.

Mason put his glasses on and smiled, "I've known you for years, Hara. I don't need glasses to know your voice. I could be blind as a bat and still know its you."

Hara smiled, and grabbed his hand.

"Come one. Let's get back to town."

"Yes Ma'am." Laughed Mason.

As she pulled him a strange thought occurred to him. He thought about the way he talked to Hara, the way he interacted with Marty and his father, and the special relationship he and his mother shared. He had the strangest feeling like he was three different people, there was the caring and intimate friend, then there was the battle savvy and malicious warrior, and lastly the endearing and ever thoughtful son. Mason frowned, because it wasn't just that he acted differently around different people. It's that he _became _different people. There was Hara's Mason, who was sweet and caring and charming to boot. But he could also become the Mason that was as cruel or worse then Marty. It was subconscious. He barely had cognitive recognition of the changes until after words. He often worried that the Mason that Marty knew would show up with Hara one day.

"What are you doing? Come on." Urged Hara.

Apparently Mason had stopped walking during his thinking. He didn't remember that either. He nodded and ran up to join her.

This was all deeply disturbing, but it wasn't the process of the change. Instead the disturbing thing to him, was that he didn't know which Mason he liked best.

**The Reaping**

Angela sat through hours and hours of her parents toiling over her. Her mother prepared her hair and outfit. Her father gave her a big speech about being brave, and standing true in the face of adversity. There were many tears, and hugs abundant. None of this really bothered Angela, besides Finnick, these two were the only people she truly loved. What really bothered her was they were acting like she had already been chosen, she had to keep reminding them that it was just a reaping, and she had already been three times before. But they were still obviously very worried and distraught. Her mother was in fits, and there was nothing Angela or her father could do to coax her. Angela was an only child, and her parents loved her more then the world itself. She hated to leave them like this, but she could see the others gathering toward the stage they had set up for the reaping. With one last hug each, she joined the crowd. Everyone in the crowd had a sort of mechanical movement to their step. Everyone's mind was busy, and each step was one of fear and apprehension. This caused for a many heavy footfall, and she could her a stifled cry from a girl behind her. She was like this her first year, and her second year for that matter. But this was her fourth year, and she was prepared to handle the emotional hurricane that was sure to ensue. Everyone was dressed in there nicest clothes, and for some that meant nothing more then cleaner rags then usual. It seemed like dressing up for a funeral. Slowly but surely the crowd began to gather around the stage, and the light on the cameras went red.

A figure danced out on stage, and she recognized the District 4 escort, Renaldo Jarl.

He was a very effeminate man, and desired the cameras blank gaze to be constantly at him. He was one of the youngest escorts she knew of, being barely in his 20s. He didn't wear a shirt, but did wear very tight forest green tights. Most women found him to be very handsome, and he flaunted this and used it to every conceivable end.

"I would like to welcome you all to the 67th Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor, District 4." He said taking a bow.

Angela frowned, that was an odd place to use the capitol slogan. But he wanted to be noticed, and using the slogan in the wrong place would surly meet that demand.

Thus began his long speech that every escort must make, and Angela mainly tried to ignore it. Eventually however, he did finish, and Angela's heart sank because she knew what was next.

"Well, lets just get along with business shall we?" He said.

He snapped his finger, and a peace keeper ran up with the bowl containing the names of possible female tributes.

Angela looked over and saw Finnick on the stage, he would soon be the mentor to whom ever this tribute would be. He had dressed up for the cameras, and was looking very noble and handsome.

"Angela Odair." Shouted Renaldo, tossing the paper slip into the air.

She was in shock. How was this possible? She only had her name in 4 times. She swallowed her fears, and stepped on stage. After all, this is what she had been training for her whole life. Not to mention she would have Finnick as a mentor.

Finnick!

She turned and saw the look on his face. It was one of absolute shock and sorrow. It's as if he expected her to lose! Or maybe it was just that he didn't want to subject her to the horrors of the arena. Either way, she would ask him later. As for now, all she could do was focus, and see just who this male tribute would be.

* * *

Mason frowned, this girl was tough. He had spied on her a couple of times while she was training, and he knew that she was strong and agile. Though he felt that Marty's ingenuity and cruelty put him a step above everyone else, including this girl. Marty was definitely going to be tough competition for anyone in the arena. He tried to look around for him, but couldn't see him. Mason was utterly and completely in peace about everything that was going on. Whomever was chosen, Marty would of course volunteer for them. It was Marty's year. All of his life was leading up to this moment, and this was his time to shine and show all of his hard work. Mason realized that it was just a couple of years before he would be doing the same thing. He might even have Marty as his mentor. He chuckled to himself, trying to imagine Marty as a mentor.

The crowd got silent as Renaldo reached into the bowl containing the future male tribute of District 4.

"Mason Videl." Renaldo said and flashed a smile to the camera, showing the slip of paper.

Mason panicked for a second, then he remembered Marty. They had never gotten along, in fact, they really didn't like each other at all. But this was Marty's year, and he would soon volunteer and save Mason.

But he said nothing.

Renaldo motioned for him to come one stage. Mason gulped, and figured that Marty was possibly trying to build suspense.

Mason scanned the crowd looking for Marty. Eventually he found him, standing near the front. That's when he saw a look on Marty's face that scared Mason more then any look Marty had ever given.

It was one of pure terror.

Mason began to panic, because he just realized Marty was not going to volunteer. Everything that he had ever done, as strong and clever as he was, he had fallen to the greatest human weakness: fear. He was too scared to move, and he was going to let his unprepared brother go to the Hunger Games in his stead. Marty lowered his head, and Mason saw that he was crying. But it wasn't because he was sad for Mason, he could care less about that. It was tears of insurmountable and uncontrollable shame. He had prepared for this moment his whole life, and he still couldn't do it.

"Shake hands you two! These good folks have other districts you know." Said Renaldo pointing to the cameras.

Mason reached and grabbed the girls hand and shook it.

If Marty wasn't going to be in this Hunger Games, then Mason knew that he would have to change. He would have to become the Mason that trained with Marty, the strong and sometimes cruel Mason. It was also the Mason that he was best at. The games had better watch out, because they had no idea the monster they had just unleashed.

**[End of District 4 Reaping ]**


	5. District 5 Reaping

**District 5**

**5 hours before the Reaping.**

The arrow whizzed past the head of the target, clanking loudly against the rusted metal wall. Orion Northcliff cursed to himself, and ran up to see if it was broken. The arrow head was bent and crooked, but luckily the shaft remained undamaged. He placed it back into the quiver, and sat down by the wooden dummy that was positioned beside him. Orion hardly ever missed, that's why this was more frustrating than it aught to be. He was good, everyone knew that. He was strong, cunning, not altogether quick, but powerful. Not only this, but everyone knew he could handle a bow, and he was quite the swordsmen as well. But that was never enough. Not for the son of the mayor. Orion's father was Carlisle Northcliff, somewhat of a local hero and mayor of District 5. Carlisle, although not a tribute himself, had been probably the most popular person growing up there. Everything that Orion did or any accomplishment that he made, can always be overshadowed by some feat that Carlisle accomplished in his youth. Orion was quite popular with the girls of District 5, he had short sandy blonde hair with deep brown eyes. He was tall, muscular and undeniably handsome.. But people always brought up,

"You should have seen your father when he was your age. There was never a second when he didn't have a girl by his side."

That wasn't what bothered Orion, those were just shallow accomplishment's that didn't count for anything in the grand scheme of things. It was, however, bothersome when things like, "I was hoping you could have run a little faster then that, considering who your Dad is." Or "Your alright with those throwing knifes, but your father could take the wings off a butterfly from 20 yards out." were said. Orion brushed all these things off, that's what he had always done. But it was getting harder and harder everyday. His pride would soon get a hold of him, and he might just flatten the next person that compares him to _Carlisle Northcliff. _He had learned one thing over the years: Pride is a handicap, and whoever says differently is lying. Orion's pride was a debilitating handicap that he had been suffering from since he was a kid. Growing up in a large family had toughened him up, he had two older brothers, Sayin, now 23 and Bruno who just turned 20. Not to mention his older sister, Naila who was 19 and then his twin brother Otto, who like Orion was 17. Orion had been told that twins are supposed to share a special bond, but he had never really believed or seen evidence of this. Orion was sure that his siblings also felt this pressure put on by their father, but even if they did suffer from what he has suffered they don't show it. He was the victim of his older brothers as a child. Maybe they too were just venting because of their insecurities. He got along well with his sister, and his twin brother was very different then Orion. Whereas Orion spent most of his time at the gym training, Otto kept to himself, mostly in deep thought. If that's how he dealt with his fathers pressure, then that's fine. But Orion liked to face his problems head on, even with one like this. Because it wasn't just what people said, it was just the insurmountable pressure and fear that he would never be the man his father was. It wasn't just people at the district that were saying these things, the head of the snake was Carlisle himself. He always suspected his father was disappointed with him, and all his brothers really. Now that he was getting older, it seems his inhibitions about voicing these complaints have died along with his appreciation for his children.. Albeit, things weren't always like this. Orion had memories of he and his family going up to the meadow for picnics, he remembered the flowers in his mothers hair, and the smell of his father smoking a pipe. He remembers one day when he and his brothers found a frog and how Naila cried when she thought they were going to hurt it. His mother just laughed and told them to go return it to its home, saying its family would miss it. Naila gave them all a watchful and apprehensive eye as they returned him to the spring, and he remembers how they all said goodbye and hopped as he hopped his way back into the water. He remembered his father picking him up and spinning him in the air, and having the great feeling that no matter what he did, or who he became, that he would forever have his fathers love and appreciation.

But now, as he sits by the wooden dummy without a mark in it, and the Reaping just a few hours away, these memories seem distant and obscure. Although they are happy memories, reliving them just opens the part of his heart he had been trying so hard to close.

"Damn it" He mutters.

"You'll hit it next time, Orion" Says a soft voice ahead of him.

Merope Javenson stands ahead of him. Between her slender build, her fiery red hair, and her piercing blue eyes, Orion falls in love with her every time she speaks his name.

"You are stunning. You realize that, right?" Orion said, standing up.

Merope walks over and throws her self into his arms. Within seconds, her slender lips reach his and they embrace each other.

"It helps to be reminded." She says innocently.

Orion, somewhat annoyed that they stopped kissing, asks, "So, what brings you to the gym?"

Merope smiles, "To see you of course! Can't I just stop by for a moment?"

Suddenly Orion hears the catch in her voice, she is obviously scared about the Reaping.

"Come here." He said, and pulled her into his arms. Together they sit down on the gym, his arm around her shoulder, and her head resting on his chest. Its almost perfect in his eyes.

"Alexander has his name in 23 times." Muttered Merope.

"He'll be okay. There's people with more." Replied Orion.

"Plus. There's- there's- Mayro, she has her name in 34 times." Said Merope, starting to get shaken.

" It's going to be okay." He said, kissing the top of her head.

"Their our friends, Orion. What if one of them gets chosen…What if you get chosen?"

And suddenly Merope began to weep. Not just the soft lonely tears one cries when sad, but the hard, gut wrenching tears one cries when devastated with sadness. The kind of tears that shake the body. Orion began to hold her more tightly, whispering to her its going to be okay. He could feel her holding onto him too, as if trying to hold him back from the Reaping. He hated this moment, and if he could, he would go directly to President Snow, and stuff his tie down his throat until he suffocated if it meant that Merope wouldn't shed another tear. If it meant that Merope could live her life in happiness. But not like this, not when every year she would have to fear for his life. For their future children's lives. She would probably be to scared to even have children.

_Damn it all. _He thought.

_Damn it all to hell. _

* * *

Whitley sat in the corner of the room, her head lowered between her knees. She could feel her tears welling up, her eyes were getting heavy. They were crueler this time, the girls in her classes. They were always cruel, but for some reason being called ugly today hurt more then usual. Maybe its because she was starting to believe it. She wiped away the first barrage of tears with her sleeve.

"_Gross." Said a voice beside her. _

_She turned to see a strangely comforting smile. _

"_What are you doing here, Luc." Said Whitley, trying to act tougher then she felt. _

_Luc smiled, "I'm your brother, can't I just come in and visit without a real reason?" _

_Whitley smiled._

"_Now," Luc said, standing up, " You and I are going on a walk. That's just the way it is, and I won't hear any debating or arguing." _

_Luc reached down and pulled her up, and they began their walk._

_They didn't talk at first, just silently strolling through the streets of District 5. Luc always knew when she was ready to talk, because he had a lot of practice soothing her over the dramas during school. He had become her shoulder to cry on, her other siblings never really cared as much as he did. They were the closest in age, him being 16, and her being 14._

"_What was it today?" He asked, sitting down on a bench._

_Whitley sat down beside him, trying to find the right words. _

"_Ariol and her friends were saying that even if I was chosen for the Hunger Games, that I would be so ugly that they would just throw me back." She eventually blurted out, stuttering all the while. _

_Luc didn't say anything, but nodded. He had heard it before, not to say he wasn't caring any more. But she knew what he was going to say. He would always tell her she was beautiful and kind. He would tell her that Ariol was an idiot, and never knew what she was talking about anyway. Then of course Whitley would tell him that Ariol was right. Whitley didn't look like any of her siblings, all of them were either stunningly beautiful or handsome. Especially Luc, he shared the blonde hair, bright blue eyes trait with her older siblings and her dad. Her mother and she were the only ones with dark black hair and thick eyebrows. Whitley felt out of place, even at her own home. _

"_Everything's going to be okay." Said Luc, smiling. _

_Whitley smiled back, its like he knew what she was thinking. He could sense she was upset about more then just Ariol. It wasn't just being called ugly, it was the cruel reminder that the Reaping was today. That scared her all the more. _

Whitley thought back on this moment, and it still hurt. Even though that conversation with Luc happened one year ago, it still felt like yesterday. The pain was just as strong as it was the day it happened. She sat in her room, lying on her bed, trying to picture his face. It's unfair how his face is easy to forgot, but the pain is impossible.

She looked out her window, judging by the sun she only had about 3 or 4 hours before the Reaping.

_Everything is going to be okay.  
_

The words resonated in her mind. Luc hadn't simply meant that Ariol would stop teasing her, or that she was truly beautiful after all. Not even just pertaining to the Hunger Games. The words had a much broader meaning that she hadn't fully grasped yet. She just knew that he wouldn't lie to her, or tell her something that he didn't at least truly believe. She had been trying to figure out what he was trying to say that day. He had this knowing look on his face when it happened, like he had just figured out all the mysteries that had been alluding everyone else. But one thing was clear, everything was not okay that day, or any day after for that matter. People told her the pain would go away after a while, and it did, at least for everyone else in her family. But she never got a break from the pain.

"Hey, Caterpillar brow." Said Amata, her 17 year old sister.

Amata's was poking her head into Whitley's room with a smile on her face.

"I told you I hated it when you called me that!" Yelled Whitley.

"What was that Caterpillar brow? Barely heard you squeak." Amata replied.

She could hear her older brother, Brock laughing in the hall.

Whitley usual could take their torments, but not today. She ran past Amata and downstairs where her mother and father were.

Her father was sitting in the chair he always sat in, staring ahead at the wall.

"Dad?" She asked.

Suddenly she understood what he was doing. His shoulders were shaking slightly, his fists were clenched, and his head was lowered.

He was crying.

She had only seen her father cry once, and that was on this exact day one year ago.

"Dad…Everything's going to be okay." Whitley said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

Well, those words were showing up all over the place today.

Suddenly he whipped his head around, " Why aren't you doing homework?"

Whitley was taken aback, why was he so mad? Why would he be expecting her to toil away her youth as usual on this day?

"Dad. I need to get ready for tonight." She said calmly.

He stood up and grabbed her arm.

"Your going upstairs right now! Tell Amata and the boys to do the same."

Whitley pulled away, confused. Did he realize he just implied Luc was still up there? Like everything was normal, and he would be there waiting to help Whitley with the hard problems in her math studies?

He stood back, suddenly realizing what he had said.

Whitley had the sudden urge to cry, because she could see the pain on her fathers face.

Her father suddenly got angry again, seeing her begin to tear up.

"He's gone, okay? I just wish to god you could handle it like Amata and Brock have…to just forget." He said and stormed back to his chair.

Whitley didn't know if he was talking to her or himself, but either way she had enough of this family. She stormed out of the house and slammed the door on her way out.

She ended up sitting underneath the base of an old oak tree near the fence that surrounded District 5. She just needed to leave that house, she usually could stand them, but not today. She thought about how happy they all used to be, and she hated the Capitol even more for changing them.

"That doesn't look very comfortable." Chimed a small voice.

She looked up to see her friends Pippa Martin and Ryder Claycomb.

Pippa was a year younger then Ryder and Whitley, but had been one of her closest friend since childhood. She had short blonde hair, and besides Luc was the only person Whitley ever could talk to about important things. Ryder was very soft spoken, normally somewhat shy until he introduced himself to Whitley a few months ago. Quite handsome in Whitley's eyes, but very introverted. Luc would have loved them.

"It isn't comfortable in the slightest." Mused Whitley, staring up at the great Oak.

Ryder suddenly leapt past her and scurried his way up to the lowest branch, and sat with his feet hanging off the edge.

"You okay, Whitley?" Asked Pippa, sitting down beside her.

" The Reaping is today, what do you think?" Mumbled Ryder, answering for her.

Whitley nodded in agreement.

They all were very quite for a moment.

" Everything is going to be okay." Whispered Pippa.

There were those words again, but not said with the confidence and kindness that Luc used. But with fear, and spoken in such a way that is used to convince one self, rather then the person listening.

None of them were convinced.

In fact, they were pretty sure nothing was going to be okay at all

* * *

Orion only had about an hour before the reaping started. But the only thing he could think of to do was go for a run. It wasn't running that particularly pleased him, but rather the thought of seeing his older brother Sayin, his wife Lily and Orion's little niece Caspia. Besides, the running kept his mind occupied. The real trick was sneaking out of the house. He tip toed his way down the stairs, sneaked past his sleeping mother on the couch, and finally out the kitchen door. Just as soon as he thought he was clear, a voice rang out.

"Your louder than an elephant. You know that, right?"

It was her sister Naila, and she was smiling.

Orion crossed his arms, "I'm stealthy when I choose to be."

Naila laughed, " You couldn't walk quietly to save your life."

Suddenly they remembered what the day was.

"I'm going over to Sayin's to see Caspia." Said Orion, changing the subject.

"Are you taking Otto with you?" Asked Naila.

Orion frowned, he hadn't planned on it. Otto and he never really hung out.

" I'm just kidding, your off the hook. He's upstairs moping." Naila chuckled, although despite her words Orion could tell she was concerned. She probably wanted him to Orion to talk to him.

" Maybe Bruno should go talk to him." Suggested Orion.

"You're his twin, you know.." Said Naila with crossed arms.

Bur Orion just turned around and began his walk towards Sayan's house. It wasn't a long walk, and before even a few minutes had passed he could hear Caspia giggling in the distance. Caspia was just a year old, and Orion had a soft spot for her. He was a loving and proud uncle, and he tried to see her as much as he could.

"'Rion!" Caspia shouted, and began to walk his way.

"Hey you!" Said Orion and scooped her up in the air.

"Your getting really good at walking, you're a pro!" Laughed Orion.

Lily, Sayin's wife, smiled, " She also learned your name this week! All she can manage is Rion though!" She said with a laugh.

Caspia just buried her head in Orion's shoulder.

"Shouldn't you be preparing for the reaping?" Asked Lily, concerned.

"Yeah. I guess so, I just wanted to say hi to Caspia!" He said turning to her.

"Rion!" Caspia said with an exuberated laugh.

"'Rion's got to go, Caspia. You can see him tonight for supper." Said Lily, grabbing Caspia.

"I take it you can for supper tonight?" Asked Lily.

"Well now I have to!" Laughed Orion.

Lily was right, Orion did have to get home. He didn't plan on saying goodbye to his father, but he owed his mother a goodbye at least. Just in case something did happen tonight. He waved goodbye to Caspia and Lily and made his way home.

But when he got home he didn't find his mother waiting for him, nor his brother.

But his father.

* * *

Whitley looked over as she saw Amata and Brock preparing for the Reaping. Brock was smoothing back his hair, and wearing old dress clothes that belonged to her father. Her father was talking to him and apparently giving him some important advice. Whitley's mother was braiding Amata's hair, and talking to her about something that Whitley couldn't hear. It could be lonely being the youngest, being on the back burner.

"_Once they get through with the jerks, they'll help us." Said Luc smiling. _

_Whitley smiled back._

_Luc sat there, and suddenly began to whistle. _

_The tune was nice, and surprisingly catchy. Soon Whitley couldn't help but join in. _

"_Shut up you idiots!" Shouted Brock from the other room. _

_Luc and Whitley just started laughing, and whistling all the louder. _

"Your turn." Said Whitley's mother. She sat fixing Whitley's hair for a little while without saying anything.

"Be brave, Whitley." Said her mother, breaking the silence.

It didn't seem like much to say.

"I'll try." Replied Whitley.

Neither did that.

So the two of them just sat there, not saying much of anything. What could they say? A goodbye would be to pessimistic, and a "See you later" would just be ignorant. So they said nothing, and Whitley quietly waited while her mother braided her hair.

"_Well, I certainty _ _fit the part of the handsome District 5 champion." Said Luc, looking at himself in the mirror. _

"_Shut up." Laughed Whitley, who couldn't help but catch her own reflection in the mirror. She looked very beautiful. Her mother braided her hair in the traditional District 5 fashion and the dress she picked out was perfect._

_What would Ariol say now?  
_

* * *

Orion sat facing his father, both of them not speaking.

"So, have you something to say to me, boy, or haven't you?" Said Carlisle, breaking the silence.

"No. I just came to see mom." Muttered Orion.

"What? I can't understand what the hell your saying when you talk that quietly." Carlisle said crossing his arms.

"If moms not here, I'll just go then." Said Orion, standing up.

Maybe his father would finally change, maybe he would step up and hug Orion and tell him it was going to be okay. Perhaps this was his moment for redemption.

"Fine then. Be on your way, and if you aren't the tribute tonight, pick up some bread at Pitts store."

Moment of redemption gone, his father blew it again. Not a single word in that sentence had an ounce of compassion in it.

Orion turned to walk out the door, when suddenly he couldn't keep it in.

"You never loved me did you?" He said quietly, his back facing Carlisle.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Said Carlisle, standing up as well.

Orion whipped around.

"I know your disappointed with me. I'm not blind. Every single day you treat me like the son your ashamed of! You don't know what its like to be compared to you! No matter what I do, or what I accomplish, you act like I could have done more. Be that way if you want, but damn it, Dad. I'm going to the Reaping! I could be chosen, it could be my name tonight!"

Carlisle stood there for a second with out saying anything, taking it all in.

"I'm only trying to make you stronger. You wouldn't of accomplished a damn thing in your life without me." Carlisle said, clinching his fists.

"Your kidding right? All you do is sit in your chair all day, smoking. Everything I accomplished was in _spite _of you. You were the wall I had to get through to become the man I am today." Screamed Orion.

"You haven't done anything I already did before you. That's why people compare you to me." Shot back Carlisle.

"You were a coward when it came to the Games." Said Orion, a little quieter then before.

Carlisle said nothing.

"Every year you sat back, hoping and praying it wasn't you who would be chosen. Because when it came down to it, everything you accomplished means nothing. Because you weren't man enough to volunteer and save someone's life. I am nothing like you because you are nothing, a coward who doesn't appreciate what he has and those who died to make sure he had it."

Carlisle sat down, " All that is just talk. Prove it to me and volunteer today. Show me what a _man _you are."

Orion turned around, and walked out the door.

He said nothing, because he couldn't stand the sight of Carlisle for another second.

**The Reaping. **

_Whitley was shivering, not because it was cold, but because she was so terrified. It was almost sickening in a way, and she honestly felt that at any minute she would throw up. She needed Luc, but they had separated her from him. Brock was close, but he was no help. She always thought that part of him wanted to be chosen anyway. Amata was even worse then Brock, besides she was nowhere to be seen. Luc was who she needed right now. She scanned the crowd and saw him across the row of heads. _

_He was smiling._

The crowd was smaller then it had been over the years. Perhaps people were getting afraid of even having children, it was rare for a family like Whitley's to have this many children. The stage was set up, and the cameras were ready. It would only be a few minutes before Mariola came out. Mariola was the District 5 escort, meaning she would be the caretaker of the tributes. Basically she would get them ready for the Capitol and all its mysteries.

Whitley never was bothered by her, although Brock and Amata were strangely annoyed by her. She was in her late 60s, most likely. She looked much older, every wrinkle and line on her face showed her age more the her attire. She dressed like a much younger women, usually wearing skirts well above her knees. She also died her hair bleach blonde, making her look very unnatural and frightening for smaller children.

Whitley wondered what she was going to wear today.

The mystery didn't last long as Mariola made her way out on the stage. This year she wore a skirt reaching a few inches above her knees. The skirt itself was bright cold, with little purple rings all around it. She reached her bony hand for the microphone.

"Hello one, hello all." She said, her voice cracking.

The crowd was silent as usual.

_She made her way over to Luc, who was pointed towards Mariola._

"_I should ask her what it was like before the Hunger Games. Possible before fire, by the look of her." Joked Luc._

"_If your lucky you won't have to talk to her at all." Chuckled Whitley. _

_Luc laughed, "I'm sure she has some good stories, you don't live to see the technologic climb of man kind without a few tales." _

Whitley closed her eyes. She needed to repress these memories. But this was the first Hunger Games since-

"You okay?" She looked around to see Ryder and Pippa behind her.

"We'll see." Replied Whitley.

Ryder smiled, "If were lucky, Mariola will just die right here right now, and we can all make a run for it."

Pippa punched Ryder in the shoulder, "That's horrible!"

Whitley couldn't help but smile, and for a second she caught Ryder's eye. She thought she saw something, something special. She realized that Ryder was very handsome, and that he was looking right at her. Suddenly she had the desire to get closer.

"Lets get to the girls name, shall we?" Said Mariola.

Whitley took a breath in, afraid for some reason to breath out.

"Whitley Hedge."

"_Luc Hedge."_

She couldn't decide which name was harder to hear during the reaping. Hers, or her brothers a year ago. She thought about what Luc did.

_Luc nodded, and turned around and hugged Whitley. She reached for him, trying to hold him back. She knew it was pointless, but she didn't want to let him go. He must have felt her grip, when he said._

_"I told you everything was going to be okay." He whispered. _

_She let him go, afraid and confused by what he meant. He runs up on the stage, and shakes the hand of the poor girl who was chosen. He turns around to face the crowd. He is still smiling, like nothing had changed. He didn't seem happy to be chosen, he just didn't seem bothered by it. Whitley began to weep, and he looked over had her and mouthed the same words he had said to her earlier. _

_"Everything is going to be okay." _

Whitley got up on stage, feeling nothing like Luc had. Luc seemed to have reached some sort of inner peace. He never once seemed scared, or uncomfortable. He answered all his questions during the interview, was charming and kind. He even got a 9 for the training scores. But when the games actually started, he just found a creek and sat by it. He didn't grab any weapons, nor did he make any attempts to hide. When he was found by a career, he didn't fight back or run. He just sat there and closed his eyes as the spear flew towards his chest.

Whitley would be different. She swore it. Whatever Luc's reason was, it didn't matter any more. All that mattered was getting home.

But she still wanted to throw up.

* * *

Orion thought all about what his father said, and he weighed the options. If he volunteered, he would just be doing it to impress his father. But if he didn't he would prove him right. No matter what he did, it was for his father. He swore he hated that man.

He looked up and saw that the girl for District 5 had already been chosen. He didn't know her but recognized her from school, he thinks maybe Otto knew her better.

"Do you know her?" Asked Orion, with Otto right behind him.

"Kind of, we talked a couple of times." Said Otto quietly.

"Now for the young man." Said Mariola.

"She gets ten years older every year." Muttered Otto.

Orion smiled in agreement.

Now came the moment of truth for Orion, he had to figure out who he was in all of this. Was he really just a pawn in his fathers game? Or did he even matter to his father, for all he knew he might not even be on his fathers radar.

" River James." Shouted Mariola.

Orion looked over to see a young boy about 12, looking absolutely terrified.

"Come on up, young man." Urged Mariola.

River had tears in his eyes, running down the freckles on his face.

That's when Orion got it, it wasn't for his father at all. His father wasn't even a number in the equation. He was going to do it for this kid, this River. Because that's what a man does, he protects those who can't protect themselves.

"I volunteer." Shouted Orion.

"You- what? Um, well, that's fine then. Come here please." Said Mariola, taken aback by the move.

As he walks past River, he whispers,

"You better live a damn good life, kid."

River nodded, wiping the tears from his face.

As Orion makes his way on stage, he gets a sort of peace about all this.

He did the right thing, because it was right. Not for his father, and not even for himself. But because it's what he was supposed to do.

Then he saw Merope.

He had completely forgotten about her. Suddenly his move seems completely selfish. He waves to her in the crowd, trying to look apologetic. But she is clearly weeping, and one of her friends is holding her back.

"Shake hands please." Said Mariola impatiently.

He shakes Whitley's hand, but never keeps his eye off Merope.

He felt more heartbroken and in pain then he had in his entire life.

He just wanted to jump down and grab her and run. But that's not how it worked.

He would have to win. He had no other choice.

He had to get home to Merope.

**[End of District 5 Reaping] **

**[As always, reviews are more than appreciated: they are cherished! ;) ]  
**

**[Also, the document editor on here is strange in the fact that when I try to space things it doesn't listen. So the flashbacks of Whitley aren't spaced the way they are supposed to be making it hard to read. If it was in fact hard to read or understand let me know.]  
**


	6. District 6 Reaping

**(Hi! This chapter is possibly T+, depending on how you look at things. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!)**

**District 6**

**3 Hours before the Reaping. **

Between the mossy stone floor, and the dripping wooden ceiling, this dimly lit basement was not the ideal place for inventing, but Megan Darner continued on. She fiddled away with her various gadgets and gears, more experimenting then actually building something. But her "inventing" had always been something she enjoyed since she was a little child. Her mother worked on the trains that brought the tributes to the Capitol, and she once snuck Megan on. She remembered marveling at the gears and rotors once the train stopped, stupefied by how the train could go this fast and not tear the gears. Eventually she figured out all of that was for show, because the "in" thing to like that year in the Capitol, was "Ironically Rustic" things. For instance, putting wheels on a hover car that never touched the ground. These things were intolerably ridiculous to Megan, but she was interested in the esthetics of it all. It was her sublime desire to figure out how something works, whether it's the ticking of a clock, or the blueprints to a Capitol airship. Her mother would constantly be sneaking things off of the train, and bringing them home for Megan to study, and Megan "borrows" the occasional gadget from the tech lab.

But the older that Megan got, the more she became aware of how dangerous this was for her mother and her. Her passion, but dangerous none the less. If either of them were caught, they would be killed. Probably in front of the entire District, and her father would watch with glazed eyes and a bottle in his hand. Her father had always had a drinking problem, but when Megan was born, he had sworn off liquor in all its many forms. Why or how he got back into it, Megan did not know. But there wasn't a moment when he didn't have the stench of liquor on his breath and a slur to his voice. He was harmless for the most part, but it still made Megan's heart ache to see him like this. Her mother was rarely in town, but Megan could tell it bothered her too. Who wouldn't be bothered by it? He used to be such a happy, kind man. But everything is different now, Megan no longer practices her inventions by her Dad's side, but instead practices them in the dark in their moldy basement.

Tinkering with advanced wires and electronics is just not safe when one can barely see their own hand. But Megan knew her way around a Capitol gadget, and this one was no different. It was a Capitol pocket T.V, and very much broken. Her mother and swiped it from a trash can on the tribute Train while she was making repairs. Megan had been trying to figure out how to make it work again, and she had almost figured it out. She had been able to get the power back on, and had replaced the broken buttons with old screw tops and for now that seemed to work. All in all the thing looked like an old pocket Radio that her father used to carry, but that was an antique, and this had a 4 inch by 5 inch screen to go along with it.

The power was on, but the screen was blank. She should be able to pick up a program of some sort, even if it was just propaganda. But all she could see in the dark was the blank screen and the quiet hum of defeat.

"What are you doing?" Screamed her father from the top of the stairs.

"I'm cleaning the rat traps." She said back, lying.

"Well…..good. But finish up, you've got real work to do." He said and slammed the door.  
Megan sighed, her father didn't really know her at all, did he? Megan was 14, had very long blonde hair, and was considered very pretty. Not really someone people assumed that liked cleaning dead rats off of their traps. But then again, everyone's vision is obscured when they drink. That's what she kept telling herself anyway.

She placed her pocket T.V underneath her work table, and ran up the basement stairs. When she got to the top, she already knew her father had hit the bottle. Whether it was his slumped body one the couch, or the smell of liquor on his breath, he was clearly and irrevocably drunk.

"Are you going to try and make it to work today?" She asked quietly.

"I don' think so." He said, his voice slurred.

"So you're just going to sit here and drink…All day?"

"Sounds 'bought right."

Megan sighed, and left him there. He could rot in his booze for all she cared, he could die for all she cared.

Die? No, it wasn't that bad. As bad as her father was, as disappointing as he had always been, he was still her father and she loved him. Why she still loved him, neither of them knew, but that's just the way it was. He had long ago distanced himself from the family, and as hard as he tried, her mother and she would still love him. Their patience would sometimes grow dim, but their love never would. That's why it hurt all the more when he drank.

As she finally reached the tech lab where she worked, she noticed everyone was leaving, she couldn't hear the loud purr of the assembly line.

"What's going on?" Megan said, asking her supervisor.

"Capitol is shutting down the lab for the day, they want to hold the Reaping inside this year. It's supposed to rain or something," Her supervisor replied.

Megan stared up at the sky, and saw not a cloud in the sky.

"Anyway," Continued her supervisor, "We have the day off, for now."

Megan nodded and went on her way. She didn't really want to go home, but she couldn't really think of anywhere else to go. She had been somewhat quiet growing up, and hadn't made very many friends. It didn't help that everyone she knew was afraid of her father. She tried telling people he was harmless, but no one listened.

So instead of going home, or trying to find friends, she ran back into the empty tech lab.

It was so quiet, even her own thoughts seemed loud. But she sat there, and began to think about the Reaping. About the prospect of being chosen, and fighting in the arena.

And she was absolutely terrified.

**District 6**

**5 hours before the reaping. **

"Are you sure it works like that, Kaiven?" Asked the boy.

"Of course. I wouldn't lie to you, would I?" Kaiven responded with a coy smile.

"It's a deal then. I'll go get it." Said the boy, running off.

Kaiven Lackney-Brown smiled, it was all together to easy. He had just convinced that boy that if he took out a Tessarae, and gave Kaiven 60% of the food, that the Tessarae would officially be in Kaiven's name, and the boy wouldn't be marked for having taken any in the first place. But of course they boy would be marked, and Kaiven would not. He was basically getting free food without having to worry about having his name placed in an additional time. He had several boys and girls doing this for him, and they had been doing it for years. Not a single one of them had even caught on yet, and Kaiven wouldn't spoil the surprise for them.

Kaiven was short, and had even shorter jet black hair. He carried himself low, always leaning his head down as he walked, as if having a staring contest with the ground. He was in good physical shape, but no one could tell because he never tried on any of the gym related games. Being 14, Kaiven only had his name in 3 times, and he was incredibly confident that he wouldn't be chosen tonight. Not that it really mattered to him, he could care less whether he lived or died. All of this with these kids was just a bit of fun and games, a mild amusement to satisfy his boredom. But the bitter reality was that he was just escaping from the life he hated and often wanted to escape from entirely. The sleeves covering his arms hid the evidence of that. His arm was sore as he touched it, and he thought back when he once was happy. When had he become this cynical, depressed person? Didn't he used to be happy?

Yes.

Yes, he used to be happy. But ones memory tends to focus on the pain, and although his happiness wasn't but a few years ago, the pain was a more prominent memory. It started 2 years ago, today. It was Kaiven's first reaping, and he was scared to death. He remembered his mother hugging him and telling him it would be alright. Despite the fact she could do nothing to protect him, he felt comforted. So, he and his older brother, Jesse, left their weeping mother and headed for the Reaping. Despite being four years apart, the brothers didn't share a typical brother relationship, they were best friends, and Jesse had been the best older brother Kaiven could have ever asked for. He remembered holding on to Jesse's arm as the long time District 6 Escort Qeim announced the girls name. He didn't remember who she was, he just remembered she died during the struggle for the Cornucopia.

Then his brothers name was called.

He remembered grabbing his brothers arm, trying to hold him back. But his Jesse just ruffled his hair and went on stage. The next week was grueling, their mother was heartbroken, and their father was clueless on how to help her. But they all sat through and watched the games, despite how painful it was. Jesse scored an 8, which surprised the Careers and most of the audience. So they spent the first few days hunting him down, seeing him as a threat. It was on the third day that they found him, huddling over an ill timed fire. Kaiven averted his eyes and the Careers all pounced on him, stabbing and beating in whatever way possible. Once they got through with him, Kaiven turned around and didn't even recognize him. He turned to his mother, seeking comfort, but she turned and ran towards their house. Kaiven began to run after her.

"Give her time son." His father said that day, and those were words still haunted Kaiven. Because, while they were "giving her time", she killed herself in Jesse's old room. Kaiven was the first to find her, and stayed with her until his father got back from work.

Ever since that day, Kaiven had been intolerably depressed, and he had always been trying to find a way out, like his mother did. He was secretly jealous of her, being able to go through with something he had been trying to do for the last two years. But something always stopped him, and he always woke up the next morning. He hated the feeling of waking up, because it just meant that he would have to face the day again. Sleep was his only respite, and he hadn't dreamed since the day he found his mother dead.

He couldn't wait until that long sleep-

"Kaiven." Spoke the soft words of his father.

Kaiven turned to see his father, Lio, standing behind him.

"Yes?" Responded Kaiven, ticked that his father would show up out of nowhere.

"Can we talk?" Lio asked.

Kaiven sighed, and reluctantly agreed. He didn't like talking to his dad, no matter what he said, he always seemed to make things worse.

"Listen, I know it's been rough the last few years." Lio started out.

Kaiven didn't respond, and waited for his dad to finish.

"And," Lio continued, "I know its been really rough on you in particular. I know I may not always be perfect, but I love you Kaiven. If you ever need to talk about anything, I want you to talk to me."

"This talk would have been great when I was 12. But you didn't want to talk to me then, so why now? Why do you care so much all of a sudden? You weren't even sad when it happened, what's your angle?" Yelled Kaiven.

"I was affected too, damn it! She wasn't just your mother, she was my wife! She was my love! Jesse wasn't just your damn brother, he was my son! My first born little boy! I saw him grow up, only to get beat to death by a bunch of animals! I cared more than you could ever possibly know!" Lio screamed back, tears in his eyes.

"Screw this." Kaiven said, and turned around to walk away.

"I know your trying to kill yourself." Lio shouted.

Kaiven stopped walking, frozen.

"Your sleeves don't hide all your scars, Kaiven. Remember that." Lio said, and turned and walked away. Kaiven clinched his fists, he thought nobody knew that. If his father knew, then that meant that others must know as well! He sat down in the dirt and lowered his head. He never really felt ashamed of what he did until he found out someone knew. He could feel the tears welling up, and this time he let them come.

Because he knew it would be the last time he would ever cry.

**The Reaping**

Megan paced back in the forth in her basement, her mind a flurry with thoughts. She was more nervous than usual and she couldn't figure out why. It's not like this was her first Reaping, but she still felt incredibly uneasy. Whenever she felt sad, or scared she would work on some invention, or some gadget. But the Pocket TV was a puzzle she couldn't solve, and it frustrated her all the more. She honestly had no idea what to do.

"Time to go." Shouted her father from atop the basement stairs.

She sighed, and ran up stairs. Her father was right, all the kids were gathering outside and moving toward the now empty tech lab where the Reaping would take place. Luckily District 6 was small enough to hold all the potential tributes. She still wasn't entirely sure why they were holding the Reaping in an old rusty tech lab, but she supposed it was irrelevant.

She stepped outside, and joined in with the crowd. She hadn't really had anytime to get ready at all. She wasn't wearing as nice of clothes as everyone around her, but it didn't really bother her. So what if the Capitol didn't see her prettied up, besides she would be mixed in with hundreds of other people so it really didn't matter. The crowd grew more and more somber as they all took a collective halt in the assembly hall of the tech lab. The stage, lights, and cameras were all set up, and now all they needed were the tributes.

Qeim emerged from behind the curtains and gave a big smile at the crowd. Qeim was a middle aged woman with long orange hair, tied into four pony tails. She wore an all orange dress with brightly gleaming lights over it.

"_Those must be LED lights,"_ Thought Megan.

Using diodes to emit various color lights wasn't a new practice, but Megan hadn't ever seen it on a dress. As strange as it was, she soon forgot about the dress, and Qeim went on with her various speeches and political videos. Megan was glad for the extra time she got, but she half wished it was all over.

"Alright then! Lets go ahead and get our female tribute!" Shouted Qeim.

She reached into the bowl, and with her abnormally large finger nails, she scooped up someone's name.

"Megan Darner!"

All of a sudden, things started to click in Megan's mind, and although she was terrified, she found that place of nirvana that inventors find. Every inventor has to be in a sort of state of mind to invent and think on the best terms. She found her mind cluttered and hard to access, but pure fear and adrenaline cleaned her mind and made her think on a better level. Despite everything, the first thing she thought of was the Pocket TV. The answer was obvious the whole time, the Capitol had done away with external antennas a long time ago, all antennas were found in the hard drive of every Pocket TV. That's why she wasn't getting signal, the external antenna was broken. It was actually silly of her to wait this long to figure it out.

None of this really mattered though, and she made her way on stage. She turned to the crowd, and said nothing. Her mind was already churning up ideas on how to survive the Games.

* * *

Kaiven felt numb, but excited. His father figuring out everything that had been going on had terrified him and enlightened him. He had been unsuccessfully trying to get to that same place his mom and brother were. He didn't know what that place was, but all he knew was he wanted to see them again. Whatever that place was, it had to be better than here. But he had been to scared all this time, and even now he didn't trust himself to go through with it. He had to make sure that he would be held to his word to end his life.

He would have to volunteer.

It was simple, someone else would just kill him and he would get what he wanted. He wouldn't have to do it himself after all. As terrified as he was, he felt like he had no other choice. As the boys name was called, Kaiven closed his eyes and raised his hand,

"I volunteer."

The crowd gasped, and became totally silent.

As Kaiven made his way to he noticed that the boy he volunteered for was the same boy that had been taking out Tessarae for Kaiven.

Irony with a capitol I.

He jumped on stage, but didn't wave to the crowd. They were to shocked at his move to accept anything like that.

"Shake hands, please!" Said Qeim.

Kaiven reached out for the hand of the girl, and pulled her close.

"You can be the one to kill me if you want." He whispered.

As he pulled away, he could tell by the shocked look on her face she didn't know what to say.

It almost made him smile.

**[End of District 6 Reaping]  
**

**[Please read this below!]  
**

**(Hey, I wanted to say something after this chapter. The chapter talked about heavy depression, which is a very serious thing. Basically, everything that Kaiven did should be the exact opposite of what people should do. If any of you guys suffer through depression, PLEASE talk to someone. It may seem hard or embarrassing but it is the right thing to do. Taking on the world alone is hard and never the right answer. I've tried doing it, and it always turns out for the worst. Just knowing that someone knows what you're going through, helps a lot. Depression is like getting hit by a bag of bricks, it comes out of nowhere and it hurts like hell. But that doesn't mean you have to go it alone. Hopefully everyone who reads this knows this already, and I honestly hope none of you suffer from depression, but if you do, and you read this, just know that you are not alone! Things DO GET BETTER. No matter how hard it seems, things will get better! Its hard to remember that in the dark times, but it is true. Please remember that and have a fantastic day! All of you people are amazing!]  
**


	7. District 7 Reaping

**District 7 **

**4 Hours before the Reaping.**

Leah wakes up, tears in her eyes. She had that dream again, the one where everything was completely dark. In this dream it was remarkably cold, and sitting across the dark marble floor: is her mother.

"Mom?" Leah asks, her hands shaking.

But her mothers back is turned to her, facing the sea of black emptiness. As she walks to her mother, she still doesn't move or respond. She kept shouting her name, but nothing. So she starts to run toward the chair, and when she reaches it, her mother still doesn't move.

"Mother." She whispers, and puts her hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly the body slumps down to the floor, and Leah screams. Her mothers face is obscured by her long hair. But for a reason Leah can't describe, she brushes her hair back. Underneath, lies the distorted face of her mother. Her mouth open and twisted in anguish, her nostrils flared. But the thing that terrifies Leah the most, was that her mothers eyes were as black and empty as the room in which they were in.

The dream was over, and Leah sat up in her bed. She wiped the tears away, and grabs her pillow. She screams into as loud as she can, but the pillow obscures her screams. She sat there for a second, breathing into her pillow.

"You okay?" Asked a voice coming from behind her.

She turned to see her sister, Katrina standing by the door.

Katrina was 21, nine years older then Leah. She was Leah's guiding light in this terrible world.

"Was it that dream again?" Katrina asked.

"Yeah. I thought after a few months maybe it had gone away." Said Leah quietly.

Katrina jumped on the bed and crawled over and lied down beside Leah.

" Was it the same? With mom?" She said, lying on her back looking up at Leah.

Leah nodded.

Katrina frowned, " What did she look like this time?"

Leah lowered her head, " The usual. Terrified mouth, the nose, and of course the black eyes. The only thing different was she had red hair."

"I've told you that she had blonde hair." Noted Katrina.

Leah scowled, "Well, how would I know? She died giving birth to me, that…_thing_ in my dream probably looked nothing like her."

Katrina smiled, "Every time you think you can't picture her, just look in a mirror! You look just like her!" With that Katrina hopped off the bed and ran down the stairs screaming something about breakfast. Leah smiled, then suddenly remembered what day it was. It was the Reaping for the 67th Hunger Games. It was also Leah's first year eligible. She was terrified, but at the same time, her name was only recorded once. The odds were insurmountably in her favor. But with the way her life had gone so far, she tended not to trust the odds. It was only a few years ago when her dad had a heart attack. His group had just cut down the required load of trees for the day, when suddenly he collapsed on the very tree he had just chopped down, clutching his heart. Ever since then Katrina had been taking care of her, but sometimes Leah wondered if she worked to hard. Sometimes that smile of hers just was a little to forced. She decides to head down the stairs when she smells something amazing. It's a cinnamon, or some close relative of cinnamon, and she can hear sizzling bacon. As she pokes her head around the corner, she sees Katrina hard at work with a plethora of fine breakfast foods awaiting. On the table, freshly stacked pancakes awaited. Two plates were set up, on Leah's plate was three pancakes stacked on one another. In-between each layer of pancake was freshly cut strawberries with some sort of cream Leah couldn't recognize. Meanwhile Katrina was frying bacon over the fireplace.

"Where," Stuttered Leah, " Where? I mean- how I can we afford? Where did you get it?"

Katrina smiled, " Never you mind the details! Just enjoy!"

Leah was still curious, "What are you doing this for?"

Katrina smiled and put a slice of bacon on each of their plates.

" The Capitol forces us to go the Reaping, forces us to send some poor kid to The Hunger Games, and forces us to watch as they try to kill other kids. It's a sick tradition that we are forced to continue. But whose to say we can't have our own tradition? As far as I'm concerned, this is feast day! The day we throw caution to the wind, and eat like royalty! And then there's a thing you got to go to later, some_ small _dumb Capitol thing, but after that, its back to feast day!" Katrina replied with a mischievous look in her eye.

Leah couldn't help but chuckle, Katrina was so exuberant. Leah did a little courtesy,

"Well, a fine feast day to you Madam!" She said giggling.

Katrina curtseyed as well, " And to you! And may the food be _ever _on our plates!" She said with a exaggerated capitol accent mocking what everyone says during the Hunger Games.

Leah laughed, it was good that they were doing this. It kept her mind from the Reaping.

It helped that the food was delicious, and the back and forth banter in fancy accents made it one of the best mornings in Leah's life. After the last bite of strawberry, the plate was empty but her stomach was not.

Katrina laughed, " Have you had enough?"

Leah just simply nods and lays her head on the table.

Katrina quickly does the dishes while Leah rests in her chair.

Finally Leah stands up and looks out the window.

Outside are all the children running home to get dressed up for the Reaping.

"You going to be okay?" Asked Katrina, finishing up the last dish.

Leah turned around and smiles, " How could I not? It's feast day! The most magnificent day of the year!"

She turns around and stares back at the window.

"Nothing can go wrong." She whispers, half of her believing, the other half needing to be convinced.

* * *

**District 7**

**4 hrs before the Reaping **

He sat there, eating an apple while they worked. Occasionally one of the workers would lift his head and stare at Damon Sommers, their facial expressions obviously holding back contempt. He would just smile and take another bite out of his apple. He could care less whether these people threw out their back working, after all they were building the set for the 67th annual Hunger Games. If one Capitol worker hurt himself on the job in Damon's district, it was a win in his book. The set was coming along nicely, and it would only be a few hours before it was completed and sentencing his friends to death. It was hard to have sympathy for the Capitol working struggling to untangle power cords. No, Damon was just fine with watching, and it helped that it was driving them absolutely crazy. He noticed Hans Ade was practicing his speech with an unplugged microphone. Hans Ade was a very large man, and that was putting it politely. He was bald, and bore a large grey mustache on his face. If Damon remembered from his history studies, Hans quite resembled what leading scientists believed a walrus once looked like, before they went extinct that is. Sweat was already pouring from his pompous face, causing his lime green suit to stain. Every now and then he would pull a handkerchief from the front pocket on his suit, and dab his face with it. Damon scoffed, this man was disgusting to him. Damon could never stand him, but he seemed to get more and more disgusting every year. Hans was District 7's escort, meaning he had the distinct responsibility of taking them to the Capitol, and keeping them in line during the preparation for the Hunger Games. He felt incredibly sorry for anyone that had to spend any amount of time with Hans. He tossed his apple behind him, and decided to give up bothering the Capitol workmen. After all, he could have a little pity on them, if they had to deal with the likes of Hans. He decided he would take the back roads through District 7 to get back home, through the woods. Unlike a lot of districts, the people of District 7 were given access to the woods around the district. Only for felling trees however, any hunting was strictly prohibited. But that wasn't a setback by any means, District 7 was primarily a distributor of lumber and paper. Although, from what Damon had heard about the Capitol, he wasn't entirely sure what they needed wood and paper for.

It only took about 20 minutes to get back to his house, he had become somewhat of an expert taking the quickest route back to his through trees and over fences. He ran the whole way, and by the time he got to his home, he was half delighted to see it. Then again, he was always half delighted to see it. It was a dilapidated old cabin, built by his father. It was the house he grew up in. It was also the house he saw his parents die in. Four years ago, when Damon was 12, he had just gotten home from school when he ran in and saw his mother on the floor. His father was stroking her hair, and had tears down his face. He asked what was wrong, but his father only shook his head and continued to weep. He had never seen his father like this. But he continued sitting there, stroking her hair, and whispering something. His father would later say it was an illness, but never specified what kind. They buried her the next day, his sweet little sister Caroline wept but the rain pouring that day concealed her tiny tears. But they never talked about it after that. He tried to forget the day he found his mother dead on the floor, and it wasn't until a few months later that just when he was starting to feel happy again, that he found his father. This time, his father was laying on the floor, and a Peacekeeper was in his kitchen. Damon asked what happened to his father, and the peacekeeper grabbed a cigarette,

"He got sick." He said, fumbling with the lighter.

The man went on to explain that his little sister Caroline had ran up to him and said her father had collapsed, and he needed help.

A group of them came later and picked up his father, and threw him into the back of their car, and left. He never even got to bury him. He tried thousands of times to ask his little sister if what they said was true, but she never spoke a word of it. In fact, after that day, she never spoke a word of anything. She hadn't uttered a single word since that day, not even alone with him. After that, he had to take care of her, taking more hours at the Lumber Yard, purchasing and cooking their food, and taking out Tessarae whenever he had to. But the time he was sixteen, he felt like he had already lived the life and had the responsibilities of an older man. That's why he was half delighted to see his home, he hated the memories associated with it, but loved his sister who was in it right now. He saw her step out the front door.

She was 11, and her hair was a bright blonde, like her mother. She had a beauty that just perfectly portrayed innocence and kindness. He remembered his mother to be the same. She smiled and waved at him, and then went back through the rusty doors. It amazed Damon how she could appear so happy, and yet be so hurt. As he walked into the house he caught his reflection in the mirror. He had a long day at the Lumber Mill, and that was obvious. Dirt covered his dark black hair, and around his face. He quickly wiped it off, and investigated to see how he looked. After all, the Reaping was tonight. He was just over 6-foot, and had piercing blue eyes. His tangled black hair covered most of his forehead. Years at the Lumber Yard and at the Lumber Mill had kept him strong, stronger the most 16 year olds. Most would consider him quite handsome, but he didn't care for such things. After all he had been through, things like that only seem trivial. He looked over and saw Caroline motioning for him to come outside.

"Do you want me to help you plant the sunflowers?" He asked with a grin

She smiled and ran outside.

Of course, Sunflowers really had no practical purpose other than the seeds, but she was happy when she was in the garden and that's what he wanted. It cost him a months earnings at the Lumber Mill to purchase the seeds.

He sat down in the dirt beside her, and sat silently while she surveyed the area for a place to plant her new seeds.

He grabbed a stick off the ground and periodically made holes about a foot apart.

He laughed as she stared at him with a quizzical expression.

"You want the seeds at least this far apart, if the plants grow into each other, it would hurt the growth of both plants. They need to grow separately to mature." He said, using the stick to illustrate what he was saying.

She smiled and placed one of the seeds in the first hole.

Damon looked up at the sky.

"We need to start getting ready to go for the Reaping." He said.

Caroline frowned, and looked anxious.

Damon smiled, " Its alright! I won't get chosen. I promise you! When its over, we can come back here, and check on your flowers! Maybe they will have grown by then!" Damon said, holding his hands up in the air whimsically.

Caroline smiled, but Damon could tell she knew he couldn't make such promises. Whatever he said only gave her a short respite from the pain.

He was well aware he couldn't heal that pain, or make promises like that. Knowing that made it hurt all the more.

* * *

**The Reaping**

Leah stared in the mirror, wearing what Katrina had picked out for her. It was a brownish dress, had a sort of familiar "home" aspect to it. She had braided her hair back, and had worked on the braids for over an hour making them right.

"You look great Leah!" Said Katrina.

Leah smiled, " I have to! Tonight is the Feast Day annual Ball!"

Katrina laughed, " Well, you best find a boy to bring! We very well can't dance with each other!"

With that they both were laughing.

"Hold on! I got something for you!" Katrina said, giddy as usual.

Suddenly, she came back holding a small jacket. It was brown, but a more earthy brown then the dress. It looked expensive.

"Where? How?" Asked Leah frantically.

"What did I say before?" Replied Katrina, "Never you mind the details!"

Leah shrugged, and Katrina helped her put it on.

"Its beautiful!" Smiled Leah.

"Its more than that. Its quite heat resistant, _and _waterproof."

Leah suddenly knew what this jacket was for.

Katrina smiled, "You know, in case it rains on your way to the Feast Day Ball."

Leah smiled, but they both knew what it was for.

With that, Leah decided to make her way out the front door.

As she put her foot out the door, she suddenly felt dizzy. She was about to fall over when she was caught. She looked up to see her best friend, Luna. Luna had been a family friend for Leah's whole life, she was practically as sister.

" Easy there!" She said

Leah chuckled, and got back on her two feet.

"Come one, Leah! We're going to be late!" Said Luna, pulling Leah by the hand.

They weren't going to be late, but walking kept their mind a little busy, and they needed that.

They talked the whole way, about this and that. About anything other then the Hunger Games. However, things get all to real when they reach the lines. The stage is built, and all the potential tributes are already arriving. Everyone's expression is somber, and their movements are mechanical. She can deny things all she wants, courtesy and prepare for the Feast Day Ball, but she is here now, and it is real. After all the signing in and getting blood checked, they line her up somewhere near the middle. She is terrified, her legs are shaking, and she just wishes Katrina was there.

"It's okay! If they pick one of us we can just throw a fish on the ground and Hans will jump for it and we can escape!" Said Luna, who was behind her.

Leah smiled, a forced smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Hans pointed to a woman sitting on stage.

"Everyone, please welcome last years winner, Johanna Mason!"

The woman seemed displeased to be where she was, thought Leah.

Everyone clapped, it was rare to see a district 7 winner. As soon as Hans finished with his speech about the uprising, and the honor of this all, he clapped his hands.

" Now we will find out the female tribute, if you please." He said, nearly out of breath. He motioned to one of the Peacekeepers to bring him the glass ball with the names. He reached into the bowl, and Leah held her breath. He grabbed a slip of paper, but the sweat on his hand caused it to fall out. He decided against that, and reached for a completely different slip of paper altogether.

"Somebody just got spared." Whispered Luna

Leah nodded, whoever that was will never realize how lucky they were.

"Maybe it was mine!" Said Leah, trying to lighten the mood.

" Leah Van Tassle." Announced Hans.

No.

No.

No.

No it couldn't be! Leah closed her eyes. This can't be happening.

She could feel Luna hugging her from behind,

"May the odds be ever in your favor, Leah." Whispered Luna, tears in her eyes.

Suddenly, Hans sweaty hand scooped her up on stage.

"Up you go." He stuttered.

Leah stood there facing the crowd. All the eager sad eyes anticipating her to say anything.

But all she could think of was the Feast Day Ball.

Without cognitive recognition, she curtseyed and said, "Thank you for the honor."

Hans smiled, "Its good to see a polite young lady these days. Now, we shall see who the boy to represent district 7 is!"

* * *

Damon frowned, it was never good to see 12 year old get chosen. _Not even the bastards in the Capitol could like that, _he thought. He thought about how Caroline was going to be available for the Hunger Games starting next year, and it sent a shiver down his spine. She was the only soul in this whole district he cared for. He hadn't made very many friends, his sarcastic and generally standoffish behavior tended to rub people the wrong way. Not to say he wasn't going to feel sorry for whomever was chosen, but he wouldn't get beat up about it. This was the way life was, there was the Hunger Games, and there was survival. He couldn't care less if he died, as long as long as Caroline was okay. Self preservation only mattered in correlation to keeping Caroline alive and happy. Before he left, he kissed her on the forehead and said, "Ill be back. Ok? Watch over the plants, and I'll bring you home a treat!"

She just nodded.

Sometimes he just wished she would talk, he wanted someone to tell _him _it would be alright. At least someone to talk to. But as soon as these feelings immerge, he shuts them down. He only needs himself and Caroline. He'd be fool to believe otherwise.

The girl called Leah seemed terrified, and he couldn't blame her. He wasn't scared, but he could see how she would be. Twelve year olds don't win, they just don't. That was a fact as far as he was concerned. Every year they get taken down during the initial blood bath at the Cornucopia. They just aren't fast enough. He hopes whoever is chosen decides to help her as best they can.

Hans reaches into the bowl, sweat pouring from every feasible orifice.

_Come on, tubs, just pick a name. _Thought Damon. It took everything in him not to shout it out.

"Alright, lets see here." Mumbled Hans.

"Ahem.."

The crowd goes silent, Damon's hand start to shake.

"Damon Sommers"

_Caroline._

That was the only thought in his head. Not of himself, he only feared what would become of Caroline. Where would she get food? She too young to work, and he certainly doesn't want her taking out a Tessarae. He is about to panic ,when he realized a solution. The only obvious conclusion would be that he has to win. Its inevitable. He may not be how to handle a weapon, but he would learn. He has to. For Caroline. He would win this for her.

He decides to run onto the stage, making himself look excited about this. He pumps his fists into the air, and jumps with excitement.

"Alright! I was hoping you'd call my name, Hans!" He said and flashed a grin at the crowd.

They cheered.

He felt disgusting.

"Shake, erm, hands." Mumbles Hans, who clearly was put off by Damon's show of confidence.

Damon takes her hand. Its cold, and shaking.

But he can't think about this girl right now, if he wanted to get home to save Caroline. This girl would have to die. That was fact. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one in the Hunger Games. Everyone else was just a brick wall he had to get through.

**End of District 7 Reaping. **


	8. District 8 Reaping

**District 8**

**8 hours before the Reaping**

It was right before dawn, and the rains were coming in. Juliette Morgan breathed in the air the winds carried with them. She loved the smell of the rain, she wasn't really sure why. Her mother always said its because the rain always signified new beginning as it washed away the dirt and pain from yesterday. Juliette, however, was less sure of this conclusion. But here she sat on the porch, underneath the tin metal roof of the District 8 school. The rain slowly began to tick against the roof, and soon turned into the rhythmic pattern of heavy rain. She hugged her legs and stared at the rain as it poured in buckets, rolling off the edges of the roof. It was peaceful, it its own way. Or at least as peaceful as it was ever going to be on this day.

The day of the Reaping.

This was a day she feared, and somehow also revered. She was 16, but she had never remembered a time when she hadn't had a large level of respect for the Hunger Games, and Careers in particular. She always wanted to be a career, but District 8 rarely ever had one. Of course, there were the kids that trained. The "cool kids" as she called them. They always trained, but rarely volunteered. But she had always wanted to train with them, but they never asked her. She wasn't drop dead gorgeous, like many of the female trainees. But she certainly had things going for her. She had long brown hair, and piercing green eyes. She was very determined, and kept her friends close. People found her tom boyishness off putting, and often assumed little of her. She hated being considered weak, and she would do anything to prove them wrong.

She could see them, running out into the rain. Each of the trainees wielded a large wooden staff resembling a sword. As they sparred, she began to work up her courage. Of all days, this would surely be the day they would except her?

So she decided to go out and meet them in the pouring rain. As she reached them, they all stopped and stared.

"Can I train with you?" She asked.

One of the boys shrugged, "If you think you can keep up, go right ahead. Here, take this."

He tossed her his training weapon, and motioned for her to come into the circle.

She finally figured out what they were doing, there were 6 of them. They would face off into one on one spars, and then after the first few hits, turn on each other. There wasn't a point system, it was more of a keep fighting until you physically can't, system.

She was faced off against a very large boy named, Mirro. He was nearly 6-5, and not a day older then 17. He swung his sword, and she quickly dove underneath it and delivered a blow to his stomach. Unshaken, he whipped around and caught her in the side with his weapon. She flew foreword a few feet, face first into the mud. She barely had time to get on her back to see a female trainees sword coming down toward her head. She rolled to her side, and kicked the girl into the mud. She jumped into the air, and leapt toward a dueling Mirro. He clocked him in the head with her sword, and he fell like a great oak into the ground. Before she could celebrate her victory, she felt the sword of another trainee catch her in the back. She fell to the ground, the wind completely knocked out. She expected another blow, but noticed Mirro had gotten back up, and was fighting the boy that had knocked Juliette down. All that was left was Mirro and the boy, then there was Juliette and the girl she had kicked over. The girl was still struggling in the mud, and so was Juliette. But as Mirro and the boy dueled, they both eventually got back on their feet. They charged toward each other, mud slinging past their feet. As they reached each other, Juliette swung down and caught the girl in the knee, and then leapt past her swinging sword. The girl raised her hand,

"I'm done." She said, exasperated.

Juliette looked over and saw that all that was left was Mirro. She had nothing left in her, and she knew this was going to be ugly. Mirro appeared fine, except for the gash on his head from Juliette. That's why she was surprised when he said,

"I'm done. Good job." He said, giving a half salute.

Everyone was shocked, they all knew Mirro was about to clobber her.

But he just waved to everyone, and walked away.

The rain had let up, and the group migrated to the school, to heal and rest.

"That was the most intense bout yet!" Said one of the younger trainees, while tending to a bruised rib.

"Your pretty good." Remarked another, mentioning Juliette.

She smiled, this is exactly what she wanted. Besides, she hadn't gotten as badly hurt as some of the others, but had scars to be proud of.

"Do you guys usually fight this hard?" She asked.

The girl Juliette had beat shook her head, "Not anywhere near this bad. You and Mirro were possessed." She said, with a half smile.

"He seemed…. Strange." Juliette said.

The boy that had given her the weapon shrugged, "He just likes to be left alone, but he's an okay guy, I guess."

But she still couldn't help but wonder why he didn't attack her. He definitely had not only the opportunity, but the ability.

She just tried to forget about it.

"You should train with us more often." Said one of them.

"I'd love to, assuming one of us isn't chosen today." She said with a coy smile.

They all laughed, but it was a cold shaky laugh.

The laugh of one trying to cover up their fear, and the feeling was mutual all around.

**District 8 **

**5 hours before the Reaping. **

Gad Denali yawned and got out of bed. He quickly panicked when he realized that he had over slept. It was clearly midday at this point, and he had slept all of the morning away. Usually he was incredibly punctual about these things, but then again, today was the Reaping. Being 17, Gad had already been to five reaping's, and he always found his sleep and schedule ruined during the morning of the Reaping. He rubbed his weary eyes, and placed his bare feet against the cold floor. It sent a chill up his spine, but it still wasn't as bad as the chill he got remembering that it's possible he is to be chosen. He shudders as he thinks about dodging arrows, and laying traps. These things weren't for him, even though he believed he could do them. He often wondered if he had it in him to take a life, but he always tried not to focus on such thoughts. Only confront something when there is no other choice, his grandmother used to say.

He opened his bedroom door and saw his mother preparing lunch. They weren't of great means, and their house was small enough to show for it. The living room and the kitchen were practically one room. He was constantly thankful to have his own room, because even in a house of three, things can get crowded.

But then he remembers that they used to be a family of four.

"You're up, good. You really don't have all that much time left. You're father already left for the factory this morning, we decided not to wake you." His mother said.

"You should have woke me, I hate the feeling of sleeping the day away." He said, yawning.

"But this isn't an ordinary day." His mother said quietly.

"It's going to be alright." He said, but he didn't mean it.

His mother had tears in her eyes, "That's what I told Yendall, right before he was chosen!"

She threw her spatula down, and ran into her room.

Gad lowered his head, it was okay to be upset, but it had been three years. His father seemed to be doing just fine. But his mother was always very close to Yendall, seeing as he was her youngest. She never really got over his death.

But how was Gad doing? That was a question that he barely even could answer himself. He wasn't prone to bursts of sorrow and tears, but something inside of him died when Yendall died. It was a part of him that he was afraid he would never get back.

He looked up towards the sky, and ascertained that he only had a few hours before the Reaping. He looked at the ground, and basing off of the mud puddles, he had slept through quite a storm.

There wasn't much point in going to the factory this late, and he couldn't think of any friend that he wanted to spend this time with. No, he wanted to spend this time alone. But with how busy District 8 was, it was hard to get away from the hustle and bustle. He did however have a spot that he would often go to for thinking. It was a shady little oak, hugging the edge of the fence that guarded and contained District 8. He spent many hours under there when Yendall died, and he was going to go tree was old, and he was surprised the Peace Keepers hadn't chopped it down. By the time he got to it, it was older and less sturdy then he had remembered. It looked more beat up about the Reaping then Gad was. He positioned himself against the trunk of the tree, and closed his eyes.

The first thing that came to mind was Yendall's smiling face.

It was remarkable how similar they were, dark brown hair, thin nose and thick eyebrows. They were both handsome in their own way, but in a sort of endearing way. But besides what he looked like, Gad remembered Yendall's kindness. Even though he was only 13, Yendall was constantly trying to share and help others. He would go out of his way if he saw someone needed help. Despite Gad being older by a year, he looked up to Yendall for this reason. He wanted to have the same heart that Yendall showed everyday. But neither of them could think of a nice thing to say during the Reaping. It so happened that the Reaping three years ago was the worst day in Gad's life.

He remembered being paralyzed with fear, waiting in the crowd beside Yendall. When the District 8 escort, Y'ilia, called Yendall's name, Gad did nothing. He wanted to take Yendall's place so badly, but he couldn't lift up his arm to volunteer. He saw a look of hurt and anger that he had never seen on Yendall's face before.

Everyone knew Yendall didn't stand a chance, but they were afraid to admit it. He only garnished a training score of 4, and he stuttered and was quiet for the interviews. Gad's hurt ached for every second he watched, but he still watched. When the gates opened, Yendall made the mistake of running toward the Cornucopia. As he ran for a bag, the female tribute from 5 jumped out and slashed his stomach. Unfortunately, Yendall was not killed with that. But he ran into the woods, and found some old ruins. The cut was bad, and everyone knew he would be dead by morning. He screamed in pain throughout the night, clinching the rocks around him. Some tributes followed the screams, but just shook their heads and walked away. He screamed for them to kill him, but none of them would. Whether they did it to be cruel, or they just couldn't kill him, Gad did not know. It was nearly dawn, and Gad had stayed by the TV all night long. He knew Yendall's end was near, and apparently Yendall did too. He reached out with his weak, trembling hand, and scratched something into the dirt. Then he collapsed, and he breathed his last. The cameras zoomed up on it, but then quickly turned away. But Gad saw what he wrote.

He wrote, "Revenge".

More the Yendall dying, more then anything, this shook him. The games had changed him, and embittered him. This is what made Gad the most sad, not only did they kill him, but they took away everything that made him who he was.

Gad felt a tear coming down his eye even now, three years later. He thought about "revenge" often. Trying to figure out what Yendall meant. The only clear conclusion was the girl from District 5. She of course died later in the games, so revenge on her wouldn't work. But he swore if he were ever chosen, that he would try to kill whatever girl arose from District 5, as a sort of symbolic revenge against the girl that killed Yendall.

He again wondered if he could actually kill anyone, and what he decided him scared him more then anything.

**The Reaping. **

Juliette's bruises were still aching as she walked in line with the other teens. Not a single one of them knew how hard she had fought this morning, and she kind of liked it that way. Every now and then she would see one the Trainees, and they would give a respectful nod, and continue on. It was almost like being a part of some club, it was exciting and new.

And painful, her side really hurt. It was possibly she had broken a rib or two, and the bruising was purple and black. But she was proud to bear it, pain and all. The stage itself was already set up, and the crowd slowly gathered around it. She looked across the crowd and saw Mirro standing with his arms crossed, un amused. They locked eyes, and he nodded to her. He was giving her the same respect the others gave her, and strangely it felt better coming from him. The others trainees all gathered, some looking worse than others. The girl that Juliette had beaten had a horribly limp, and her face was scrunched in pain. The others had their own anomalies, but none worse then his. Juliette feared for that girl if she was chosen.

The lights flickered red, and out stepped Y'ilia, the escort for District 8. He was a very muscular man in his mid forties. He wore a long v neck that reached his stomach.

Juliette scrunched her nose in disgust. He went on about the history of the Hunger Games, and Juliette was drawn into it like every year. She was amazed seeing footage of past winners, and was slightly jealous of them. She saw Mirro rolling his eyes.

He should at least have a little respect, she thought.

"Alright, lets get to the girls names, shall we?" Said Y'ilia.

As he reached into the bowl, Juliette actually wished it was her. It was strange, but she honestly felt like she needed to do this. More than that, she wanted to do this.

"Juliette Morgan." Shouted Y'ilia.

She wanted this after all. It wasn't just a passing thought, it was something she truly desired. As she walked on stage, she saw all the trainees.

They were saluting her. This feeling she had, of being respected. She wanted this again, she couldn't get enough. She would have to win the Hunger Games to get this feeling again, and she would fight her hardest to do just that.

* * *

Gad hadn't ever seen this girl, but she seemed giddy to be chosen. That was never a good sign, and he couldn't relate to it at all. The Games had taken everything away from him, and it had essentially ruined his life. He hated everything about them.

Or was he cause of his own misery? If he had volunteered for Yendall, everything would be fine. He would be dead, and Yendall would still be here, helping everyone he could. But he lacked the courage and foresight for such a bold move, and his brother suffered the ultimate price for it.

_Revenge. _

The words resonated in his mind once again, he almost felt like it had become a part of him. His brothers last word, and his last command.

Finally, things began to get clear for him. Yendall's death was his fault, that was clear. But, that doesn't mean he can't right a wrong. He realized that he would get revenge, and the girl from District 5 would pay for the crime of her District. The games had changed Yendall, and they would change Gad too. It was the only way to clear his conscience.

"Mirro Holden." Shouted Y'ilia.

Gad turned to see a large boy making his way toward stage.

"I volunteer!" Shouted Gad.

Funny how his arms weren't paralyzed now.

Everyone was in shock, hardly anyone volunteered at District 8, and the crowd seemed to think that Mirro was more of a physical threat. They quickly turned from shock, to anger. He had to brush past people to make his way on stage, and even Y'ilia seemed angry. But he didn't care what any of them thought. He didn't care about anything anymore, not even dying. All that mattered to him was killing the girl from District 5.

That would be the only way to redeem Yendall.

**End of District 8 reaping  
**


	9. District 9 Reaping

**District 9**

**3 Hours before the Reaping **

It was a miserably hot day, the kind of day that makes doing anything tedious. Lee Ann Bell wiped the sweat off of her forehead, and continued tilling the ground. She didn't mind the work, she had been doing this her whole life. But days like this made working in the field near impossible. She hated days like this, but it was unfortunately her job, and no matter what, she did her job. She couldn't stand it when people complained. So, even though the sun was beating down on her, and her mouth was dry from a lack of water, she toiled on. Ahead of her, a boy was doing the exact thing she hated most: complaining.

"This is stupid. It's a bajillion degrees out and I'm sick of this." Said the first boy.

"Shut up, Silo. The less you talk, the sooner we get this done." Responded a boy that looked like his brother.

"The less YOU talk the sooner we get this done." Mocked Silo.

Lee sighed, and decided to work else where. This was the kind of tom foolery she couldn't stand, everyone had their responsibilities. In District 9, you worked the fields, that's just the way it was. If this guy wasn't excepting his responsibilities, then he wasn't somebody Lee wanted to be around. They were nearly the same age, Lee was 15 and he looked maybe a year older. Funny she could work harder and better, and be younger. People never really assumed Lee was a hard worker, she was very pretty and had long blonde hair, golden brown skin and striking green eyes. She looked somewhat feminine, but that was a reputation she was trying to avoid. The facts stated that she was a hard worker who didn't complain, and was fiercely loyal to her family and no one else. If everyone outside of her family were starving to death, she wouldn't share a bread crumb. Not because she was cruel, but because she put her and her family above everyone and everything else. That was another job she didn't complain about, but this job was infinitely more difficult. She lived with her mother and her two younger sisters. Her father left when she was to young to remember. Whether he was taken by the Capitol for some unknown crime, or whether he ran away, she did not know. All she knew was that he wasn't here now, and she had to take care of the family. It seems like that should be her moms job, but her mother couldn't work out in the fields anymore. She had hurt her leg years ago, and it is painful for her just to walk. So Lee took double shifts and had been taking care of the family ever since. But even with all of her hard work, she still had to take Tessarae's out. She refused to let either of her younger sisters take any, and she feared that maybe she had taken to much. She almost felt as if it was just a matter of time before her name was called at the Reaping, but for now, she decided not to worry about it.

"Alright. Everyone available for the Reaping can go home and get ready. Except for you two." Yelled the super visor, pointing to Silo and his brother.

Lee almost laughed as she heard Silo's loud and unending complaints.

"Hey you!" Shouted somebody behind her.

Lee turned around to see her friend Ali skipping towards her.

"Thank God we got a break! I thought I was going to die!" Said Ali with a smile.

Lee smiled back but said nothing.

Ali was one of the few people in this world that Lee cared about. She was almost as important as her own family, but not quite.

"Mia turned 12 last week, just in time for the Reaping." Said Ali slowly.

"I'm so sorry." Said Lee.

"That's okay. She's my little sister, so I made sure not to let her take out any Tessarae this week. Her name is only in their once, so she should be okay. But do you think you could help me get her ready for tonight?" Asked Ali.

Lee sighed, "I suppose so. But I still have to get home and help my own sisters."

"I know! But they are a little bit older than Mia, so they should be okay for now…right?"

"Well…yes, I guess so. But I can really only give you an hour, and then I really should head back home. "

Ali agreed and the two of them ran for Ali's house. Ali's house was actually a little smaller than Lee's. Ali's parents were just as poor as Lee's family, but at least both of her parent's could still work. But even still, Ali wasn't able to escape the Tessarae.

"Hey Ali! Hey Lee!" Shouted Mia from the front porch.

"Why are you so excited?" Asked Lee, confused.

"It's my first year. I only have my name in once. So, I'm not worried about getting chosen at all. The way I see it, I get to get dressed up and be on television." Mia said with a smile.

"When did you get so smart?" Laughed Ali.

Smart wouldn't be the word Lee would use, more like selfish. Just because she was fine didn't mean everyone else was. Inevitably, someone was going to be chosen tonight, there was no way around that.

The next hour they spent working on Mia's hair and picking out a dress. The whole thing was very vexing and tiresome for Lee, but she didn't say anything.

As they were combing Mia's hair, Ali turned to Lee.

"I have my name in forty nine times." She said quietly.

"So do I." Replied Lee, working on a knot in Mia's hair.

"I'm scared, Lee." Ali whispered.

Lee stopped combing Mia's hair and turned to Ali.

Ali had tears in her eyes, and she was shaking.

"We're going to be alright." Lee said. She couldn't think of anything else to say.

Ali just nodded and continued on Mia's hair. As Lee helped, she couldn't help but feel despair. The odds were against them, and she knew that it would be either her or Ali chosen tonight.

That was just a fact.

**District 9**

**1 hour before the Reaping **

It was the kind of weather that just made everything worse. The gray clouds loomed over head, and the distant roll of thunder could be heard echoing over the mountain. If it threatened to rain in District 9, it was considered a good omen. Rain provided healthy crops, and healthy crops provided income. But it wasn't about to rain, or even sprinkle. This was the type of weather that promised rain, but never delivered.

This weather was all to familiar for Silo Harrow.  
He stared up at the grey clouds and sighed. He was disappointed, but it's not like he was all that put out by it. He was used to such vast disappointments and tragedies that this felt like nothing in comparison.

He stared at the grave stone ahead of him, and wiped away some of the moss that had crawled up the side obscuring the name.

"Hey Mom." He said with a smile.

The gravestone said nothing.

"Well, I know I'm probably just talking to a slab of stone right now, but on the off chance you can hear me, this is Silo."

The "Slab of Stone" remained quiet.

"I mean, of course you know its me, I'm your son." Silo laughed, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, for starters: you look great…probably. I mean, I can't see you, but you know, we had a pretty good coffin made, so I don't think any bugs are going to get in. So, on that basis, I think its pretty safe to assume you aren't decomposing at a faster rate then is usual. Or at least the worms aren't getting at you!" Silo sputtered.

If his Mom were alive, she would just smile and know that he meant well. Silo wasn't an ace words, and she knew it. Silo was always, how would she put it…interesting. He had always been very social, and often described as a little _too _outgoing. Often during school he had been called a class clown, and had gotten into a lot of trouble by attempting to get a laugh out of the class. Silo had short brown hair that blocked his vision occasionally, and was quite muscular. He was very sure of himself, quite confident in his abilities. The only thing he felt self conscience about was his height. He was a few heads shorter than the other boys his age, and hadn't ever dated a girl shorter than he was.

Silo sighed, " Well, now that we have that out of the way, I guess I'll tell you how my day went."

He imagined his mother nodded for him to continue.

"Well, for starters, you know how bad the group home is. It's been hell for years."

It was true, he and his older brother, Doon, had been staying at the group home since their parents had died nearly ten years ago. It all started when their mother contracted a deadly sickness, and being from a poor family they couldn't afford medicine. His father attempted to steal some, but was shot on sight. Later that night, their mother passed away. Their father was never seen again, but they were allowed to bury their mother. After that, they had been staying in an ill maintained group home.

"Being 16, staying at a group home is somewhat demeaning, and today was no better. but, I won't go into everything that happened there, but lets leave it at the boy with the loose bladder that sleeps in the bunk above me was terrified of the Reaping. That left me with a cruel and disgusting awakening. A series of unfortunate events happened that I don't have the time or desire to go into. Long story short, I ended up in the fields with clothes that didn't fit and shoes that were too small."

He imagined his mother sighing at her sons misfortune and probably promising to make him a pie.

"Yes please." He said with a smile, then remembered that he was talking to a rock.

He sighed at the prospect of no pie, and continued on with his story.

"Hopefully I'm not boring you with my story, but I guess you probably don't have much else to do right now." Silo said with a shrug.

"Where was I? Oh yes, the fields. Today, everyone 18 and under got a half day since it was the Reaping and all, so that was kind of nice. Or at least it seemed like it, at first. As everyone was leaving, the crop supervisor pulled me and Doon aside and said, 'You two have to stay and finish loading up today's haul!'"

As Silo mimicked the supervisor, he put his finger under his nose to signify a mustache and comically lowered his voice.

He imagined his mother laughing.

"So, then there was that whole mess. It took us several hours by ourselves and I just barely got here to talk to you." Silo finished.

The gravestone gave an unsatisfactory response of silence.

Silo sighed, and got up.

Suddenly a rain drop fell and hit his nose. He looked up and could see a flurry of rain getting ready to fall on him.

"Thanks for listening, Mom. It really helps to talk to somebody about this, and Doon is always so serious. So hi to Pops for me, wherever he is."

He gave a half wave and started to run through the rain. He was slightly annoyed the rain had decided to come now, after all, he could of used it when he was unloading bales of hay in the heat. He was sure his brother Doon felt the same way, wherever he was now. His brother tended to disappear after work, and today was no different. It didn't help that today was the day of the Reaping.

Today was the day of the Reaping.

It hadn't actually hit Silo until this moment. Sure, he was aware that it was today, it's not like he just found out. But for some reason he hadn't been worried or even thinking about it all day. After their parents died, Doon and he had been taking out a lot of Tessarae, and every year it was worse. He wasn't sure the exact number, but he knew it was one of the highest in the District. The only person that had their name in more time was his Doon, only be default because of his age.

Silo thought about running for cover from the rain, but in the end he didn't bother. He just put his hands in his pocket and slowly headed for home.

**The Reaping **

Lee's sisters didn't need as much attention as Mia had demanded, and they were clean, and ready to go in just a half an hour. Their mother kissed each of them on top of the head, and said a little blessing over each one of them. Nothing special, just enough to make them feel a little better. It may have worked for her sisters, but Lee was feeling absolutely no better. She knew that there was a large chance it would be her tonight, and if it wasn't then it would be Ali. Either way was a loss. But if Lee were chosen, it would be a much bigger loss altogether. Or at least that's how Lee felt. If she were chosen, then her sisters would have to become the main providers for the family, and that was something that Lee just wouldn't allow. So, even though she felt very close to Ali, she was praying and hoping she would be chosen. It didn't feel right, but she knew that it was. Her family came first, that's just how it was going to be. That's a promise she made to herself long ago, and there was no way to break it. She knew Ali had figured this all out as well, for she walked right past Lee without saying a word. They were both frantically hoping the other would get chosen, and it inevitably was going to create some friction.

As they got closer to the stage, she noticed they had set a large tarp over it. It had been raining off and on for the last hour and they were worried for the precious little cameras. As for the potential tributes, well, they just had to stand in the mud.

Finally everyone gathered around the stage, and the District 9 escort ran out.

Whendal wasn't the usual escort, she was in her mid 30's and didn't wear near as much makeup as the others that Lee had seen. She always seemed kind of down to earth to Lee, or at least for a Capitol citizen. She appeared as if she was once very beautiful, but now didn't even try. She had a look of someone that had been through a lot, and didn't care to be there.

It was almost perfect timing, as she stepped onto the stage, a loud crack of thunder shook the ground. It was followed by a heavy sheet of rain that started to fall onto the potential tributes.

"Damn it." Muttered Whendal staring at the sky.

The podium she was to talk at was at the edge of the tarp, and not entirely covered by the rain. But she stepped up to it, and began her series of boring speeches and video clips.

Lee felt as if the rain just added to the foreboding feeling she had. Would it be her or Ali fighting in the Arena? Only time would tell, and everything was going intolerably slow. The speeches seemed to last for hours, but finally they did end, and Whendal seemed to be in a hurry for this all to end as well.

"Females are first." She said reaching for the bowl that held the names of the future district 9 female tribute.

Lee turned to Ali, and was surprised to see that her face was no longer scared, but determined. She was determined to survive all of this, no matter how things went down. Lee couldn't help but smile, but it didn't last long as Whendal said the worst thing she could ever say.

"Lee Ann Bell."

She stood there for a second, then she decided that she would have to survive. To survive meant to play the game in every feasible category, and that meant seeming confident and unafraid. So she ran up on stage, and thanked Whendal.

"Yeah, whatever." Said Whendal, patting her shoulder.

Lee stared into the crowd, and hoped the rain hid the tear coming down her eye.

* * *

Silo breathed a sigh of relief seeing that it wasn't Rice that was chosen. Rice was his girlfriend, and he loved her more than the entire world and everything in it. She was the most popular girl in the entirety of District 9, and every guy had been trying to get her. But for some reason, Silo was the one she had chosen. He didn't know the reason, and he didn't really care. He looked up to see that the microphone had cut off, and decided to use this extra time to find Rice. He scurried his way through the crowd, splashing through mud puddles. Finally, he saw her beautiful face. She was absolutely stunning, and his heart stopped every time he saw her.

"Hello beautiful." He said leaning in for a kiss.

She backed her head away, avoiding it.

"Okay." He said putting his hands ups, but then quickly kissed her on her cheek.

"There's something we need to talk about." She in a whisper.

"Right now?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Right now." She said.

Silo shrugged and motioned for her to continue.

"I'm leaving you for Barley Fritton." She said slowly.

"Silo Harrow." Yelled Whendal, over the broken microphone.

Silo was in total and complete shock, and he couldn't even move.

"Well, go on." Said Rice, pointing to the stage.

Suddenly Silo just burst into tears, and tried reasoning with her. He must have been completely incoherent, because she just ignored him.

Suddenly he felt the strong arms of the Peace Keepers grabbing him and start pulling him to the stage. He elbowed one of them, and then turned around and threw the other one into the mud.

"Rice! I love you!" He shouted and then he slumped to the ground. A Peace Keeper stood over him, with his club raised. He tried to stay conscience, but it only lasted for a second. He turned and saw Rice shaking her head. Then everything went black.

**End of District 9 Reaping  
**


	10. District 10 Reaping

**District 10**

**3 hours before the Reaping **

Life had always been tough for Lorena Rodriguez, today would be no different. Today was the day of the reaping, and it would be Lorena's last year eligible. She would turn 19 a few months from that moment, and her long fear of the Games would no longer be a demon she would have to face. But that was just one demon in Lorena's life, and she knew full well it wouldn't be the last.

Lorena had fair olive skin, with brown eyes. Between her beautiful long brown hair and the way she carried herself, most wouldn't assume she led a life of hardship. But unfortunately, they were wrong. Growing up, Lorena never knew her real father. Given her mothers reputation, she believed that it would be near impossible to ascertain who he was. But that was just the beginning of Lorena's troubles  
Through the eyes of a younger Lorena, her mother seemed to have a lot of friends constantly over at the house. But her mother never seemed happy with any of them, almost scared. She certainly didn't want Lorena near any of them, or even talking about them. It was very confusing time for Lorena, but she listened to her mother. Those years were hard to remember for Lorena now, because she felt foolish that she could realize what her mother was doing. But now, thinking back on it, she was kind of glad that she didn't know. She sure wished that she didn't know now.

One of the men that was her mothers, "friend" seemed very interested in Lorena. He would always talk to her when her mother wasn't watching, or when they would meet in town. He seemed very nice to Lorena, or at least he was different then the others. So she stopped following her mothers rules, and she began to talk to him more and more. She wished she could go back in time, and yell and plead at her younger self to turn around and run away. To never talk to this man again.

But that was impossible, and the clock of time ticked at its normal rate, and everything that was meant to happened, happened. Lorena had blocked out what had happened that day after school, but she does remember what happened afterwards. The man was dead on the ground, and she stood above him holding a brick. Everyone said what she had done was brave, that the man was attacking her mother and her. But she couldn't remember, all she remembered was guilt. They called him a monster, but she was the one that felt like one. She wasn't entirely sure why, she was just defending her mother. Her memories were so foggy of the event, that she barely even know what happened. All she really knew was that it had changed her. She was no longer the little girl with the big heart and sweet smile, she had become something she hated.

Cynical.

Cruel.

A loner.

She had become the girl around town that no one wanted to talk to or mess with. Maybe they were scared of her, maybe they thought that she would snap and kill them too. But they didn't really know Lorena at all, she may have been cruel or violent with her words, but she was haunted by that moment. She detested physical violence, or at least she hoped she did. She didn't want to be that person, the one that solved problems through violence. She had learned to use her words, and she had mastered the cold strike of cruel words. Much of District 10 despised her for that, but she really didn't want to make friends. Her life was protecting her mother, and her little brother, Tino. Even though he was 14, she had made sure that he was oblivious to all that had happened. So far she had kept him out of the loop, but the gossiping children at school made this really hard. But she at least wanted to make sure that his childhood was better than his, whatever it took to make sure that happened.

"Hey Lorena!" Shouted Tino, running around the corner of an old beat up butcher shop.

He looked so happy, she wasn't sure why.

Considering what day it was.

"Hey Tino." She said quietly.

"What's the matter?" He asked, honestly.

Lorena smiled, which was rare, "Nothing! It's just a little hot out."

Tino frowned, "You sure it has nothing to do with the Reaping?"

He could see right through her.

"It _might _have something to do with that." She said slowly.

Tino smiled, "Alright. Follow me."

He led her partly through town, to a more deserted section. Suddenly he stopped, and pulled something out of his bag.

It was an apple.

"Where did you get this!" Lorena exclaimed, staring at the apple.

Tino smiled, "Lets just say I found it."

Apples were extremely rare in District 10, and were considered a frivolous buy even for the rich. It was extremely dangerous to steal one, and that was the only conclusion Lorena could come to.

"Don't worry about it." He said smiling, "Nobody knows. I just wanted to get you something special. It's your last year after all."

Lorena smiled, she supposed she could allow herself one nice thing. She would worry about the repercussions later.

"If you insist." She said, eager to taste the apple.

Tino smiled and cut the apple, into fourths, and handed her three of the pieces, taking one for himself.

So they sat down on the dirty ground, eating a delicacy that neither of them had had since they were kids. Lorena stared at Tino, and it shocked her how much he was growing up. She realized that although this was her last year, he had many years ahead of him. It seemed that whenever one good thing would happen, a string of misfortune would follow.

She feared for whatever might come next.

**District 10**

**6 hours before the Reaping**

"Keep your arms up." Commanded a low, gravely voice.

Thomas Jones barely managed to lift his arms to his head to block the attack. He could feel the power of his fathers swing resonating against his exposed wrists. Before he had time to even process the hit, he found his fathers other fist coming from the other direction. Within a second of noticing it, he took the brute of the hit directly to the side of his chin. He spun around and collapsed in the dirt, completely shaken.

"Come on, T.J. What's the matter with you?" His father asked.

"I'm just a little off today, relax." He mumbled in reply, spitting dirt out of his mouth.

"A little off? This is the third time I've knocked you to the ground, and we haven't even started using weapons yet." His father exclaimed.

Thomas rolled his eyes, "I'm fine! I'm just a little slow today."

"I'll say." Mumbled his father.

For the last five years, Thomas( or T.J, as most called him) had been practicing with his father everyday before work. The two of them went over rigorous training exercises, including hand-to-hand combat. He would also teach him all that he knew of herb and plant lore, although his repertoire was limited in this land of farm and livestock. All he could really do was sketch pictures and go over various fungi were edible. Survival tactics were also taught, but they were few and far in between. The fact of the matter was that T.J's father really didn't know all that much about the Hunger Games. Only the information he had accrued over the years of watching. But it really didn't bother T.J, because it wasn't as if he were training so that he could volunteer one day. The training itself was more on a precautionary level. His father wanted to make sure that Thomas was ready and willing if his name were ever called. Although it was hard work, Thomas agreed that precautionary measures had to be taken in a situation like this. A life and death situation like this required a little bit of finesse. Training out behind their old house and eight in the morning was as close to finesse as T.J was going to get. At times he honestly felt that his father had nothing to left to teach him, then there were days like this that left him lying on the ground with an aching face.

"I think your problem stems back to your inability to see projectiles in your peripheral view. It's basic stuff, T.J. How can you dodge a sword when you can't even dodge my fist?" His father lambasted.

"I'm getting real tired of telling you the same thing: today just isn't my day!" T.J shouted.

"You've been saying that for the last week. I'm getting tired of hearing your excuses." His father sighed.

T.J growled and jumped back up on his feet and took a swing at his father. It almost surprised him when the hit actually found its target. Before he knew it, his father has sent flying to the ground, just as T.J had a minute ago.

"That's more like it." His father said, flashing a bloody smile.

"Although, it was a little bit of a cheap shot." He mumbled as he got back on his feet.

This was a perfect example of what their relationship was like. His father was very strict and compliments weren't given lightly, they were usually followed up by an insult. But it wasn't done to hurt T.J, but merely to motivate him to be a better fighter. In a lot of ways, they two of them were very much alike. Both had messy black hair, accompanied by a rugged exterior and a quiet disposition. Both of them thought actions spoke louder than words, and practiced this philosophy constantly. Being 16 and the handsome man that he was, most people assumed T.J had the girls following his every move. Whether they did or not, he hadn't noticed. It wasn't that he was entirely against the idea of romantic endeavors, it was just that he didn't think he had the time or energy for something like that. His daily schedule was pretty much repetitious; as soon as he awoke he would train with his father, afterwards he would spend a few hours with the butcher, and spend the rest of the day at the night school that District 10 provided to the children who were forced to work during the day. He knew that each of these things were crucial, and that any romantic ideas were frivolous and they would take away from the time he needed for money and training. That's just how T.J saw the world, he would make calculated decisions, and never regret or look back. He never made a decision based off of an emotion.

Or at least he hadn't, since _it_ had happened.

The event that changed his life forever.

The event that felt like it was just yesterday; it was hard to believe it had been 14 years since he had seen his mother.

It wasn't a thought he focused on. It caused emotion and emotion was the downfall of the strong, so he forced it out. His father on the other hand, despite sharing his physical attributes, had been known for a long time for his quick temper and generally surly disposition. His temper had earned him the nick name, fiery Fammon. He hadn't always been called this, but T.J could barely remember a time when his father wasn't universally hated by everyone in town. He could feel the fire behind peoples eyes as he walked with his Fammon growing up. For a while it caused a lot of resentment between them; T.J hated his father for the longest time. But eventually they both had a goal to focus on, and it kept them busy.

"You have a hell of a right hook. Try improving your defensive capabilities and you might not be half bad." Fammon muttered.

T.J reached down to help him up, but he just grunted and turned him down. Neither of them were willing to except help so quickly.

Fammon wiped the dirt of his shirt, "It's about that time."

T.J nodded, it was nearly time for him to head over to the Butchery for work. It was an unpleasant job, but the pay was enough to cover most of their food.

"Before you go, I wanted to tell you something." Fammon stuttered.

"What is it. I don't have much time left." Replied T.J, getting irate.

"Well," Fammon started, "It's something I had wanted to tell you for a long time. I think you're finally mature enough to hear it."

T.J said nothing as Fammon continued.

"All of this, this training we have been doing. It's not exactly what it seems."

T.J raised an eyebrow, but other than that showed no effect to his fathers secret.

"It's not just about the Games, T.J. That's what I'm trying to say." Fammon spurted.

"I know what you're trying to do." Replied a cross T.J.

"No, I don't think you do."

"Actually, I understand perfectly. To you this may be some sort of way to rid you of your guilt over Moms death. You think that if you taught me how to fight, and be a better man, it would absolve you of your sins. I know it was your fault…..I'll never forget that she is dead because of you."

T.J stormed off, his fists clenched. All of these years of practice had just been a lie that his father had conjured up to make T.J forget about his mother. But he would never forget.

He would never forgive his father.

**The Reaping **

Lorena walked out into the square, her brother at her side. She tried not to associate herself with other girls her age, but it was during the Reaping's that she didn't have a choice. She tried to stay proud, and calm. But seeing the other girls whisper and point her way was starting to infuriate her.

"Alright Tino, I'll see you after this." She whispered, and squeezed his shoulder.

"We'll be okay!" He said with a smile, and disappeared into the section of boys.

The stage was already set up, as expected. Above the stage it was overcast, making everything much darker than it needed to be. It was ominous, and a cold breeze blew by making everyone in the crowd shiver. The timing was perfect as the red lights cut on and Pams stepped out on the stage. Pams was a short plump woman in her mid forties that had gone through countless surgeries to make her self look younger. By the end of them all, her face seemed frozen, devoid of emotion. But her voice was as shrill and annoying as ever as she yelled, " Welcome to the 67th annual Hunger Games!"

The crowd was silent.

She coughed, and continued her speech. She went over the obvious things, the glory to the Capitol film they always showed, and the bravado of past victors. It was all very boring and tiresome for Lorena.

"Now, onto the tributes!" She shouted.

Lorena wondered if she ever spoke quietly.

Pams worked her way over to the bowl containing the female tributes names. Lorena bit her lip, only ten more seconds of worrying about the games. Then the rest of her life she wouldn't ever have to fear them again. Perhaps her life had finally turned for the better.

"Lorena Rodriguez."

Misery knew its cue very well.

Lorena blinked in disbelief. She felt numb, and suddenly she felt a rain drop hit her on the forehead. That seemed to get her out of the trance, and she worked her way on stage. Her mind was racing with all the different things that had happened to her over her life. She started feeling dizzy, and unsure if she could stand or not.

Then it the light rain turned into a pouring lightning storm.

Misery really did know its cue.

* * *

T.J put his hand over his eyes to block the rain, and to see if he recognized the girl that was chosen. The rain was a heavy sheet, blocking out most of his vision. He could barely hear the escort shouting somebody's name. The rain was blocking it out, and the roll of the thunder boomed behind the set. Suddenly, he heard it.

"Thomas Jones!"

He barely had time to register what was happening as a Peace Keeper grabbed him and pulled him on stage. It was fairly obvious that the rain was prompting them to hurry this thing along, and they didn't have the time or patience for sentimentality. Everything was so rushed he didn't even have time to feel sad or even scared as he was forced to shake the hand of the girl. The Peace Keeper grabbed his collar and began dragging him and Lorena off stage.

Suddenly, the man let go, and T.J heard a grunt. He turned around to see his father standing over the crumpled body of the Peace Keeper.

"Run Thomas! Do what I've trained you for!" Fammon shouted as another Peace Keeper ran at him.

Suddenly it all made sense to T.J, why his father had trained him. It wasn't for the games at all.

It was to fight Peace Keepers.

All of these years, his father must have been planning an elaborate heist, and had been dragging an unaware T.J with him. Him being chosen must have thrown a wrench in his plan, seeing as he was desperately fighting off Peace Keepers. He turned and saw Lorena standing back and watching, as if she was contemplating rushing in herself.

He put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. Couldn't she see if was useless?

Or was it?

The three of them might be able to fight them off, and hold Pams as a hostage. But in a way Thomas wanted to punish his father. For lying to him, to getting him into this mess.

For letting his mother die.

But now, his father was alone. Throwing Peace Keeper by Peace Keeper off of his back. T.J honestly didn't know what to do, the choice was the hardest in his life. But in the end, he did what he always did, he made a logical decision.

He would do nothing. Just like his father had all those years ago.

So he sat there, watching his father struggle with them. He did nothing as a Peace Keeper beat him. He did nothing as his father called his name.

And he did nothing as a Peace Keeper brushed past him, pulled out a gun and shot Fammon. The bullet tore through his head, and the blood mixed with the rain.

But T.J felt nothing.

Not fear

Not sorrow.

But only regret that his life had turned into what it had. That this was the end of the road for his father. So he turned his back, and walked away.

**[End of District 10 Reaping.]**


	11. District 11 Reaping

**District 11**

**3 hour before the Reaping **

Rose Lee gripped her mother tightly, fearing to let go. Her mother whispered in her ear, but she couldn't understand her words. But they comforted her, and the rhythm felt soft to her ears somehow. The longer her mother whispered, the tighter she held on. As if each word was pulling them closer and closer until they would become one. It was terrifying at first, but it became magical. Eventually, she could make out the words,

"_Amani na iwe kwenu, na wewe kuwa na nguvu."_ Her mother whispered.

"What is that?" Rose whispered back.

"It's the end of a prayer my mother taught me." Her mother said, stroking Rose's hair.

"What does it mean?" Asked Rose.

"It means, 'Peace be with you, and you become stronger.' " Her mother said with a smile.

"Well." Rose said queitly, "I don't get why we don't talk like that all the time, its so beautiful."

Her mother lowered her head, "That language is strictly forbidden by the Capitol, along with any other language that isn't New Capitol Speak."

"What language is it? How did you learn it?" Rose inquired.

"It's called Swahili. Your ancestors spoke it a _very _long time ago. It has been passed down from mother to daughter for as long as anyone can remember."

"Will you teach it to me?" Rose asked, almost pleading.

Her mother smiled, "Of course. But today we have other things to worry about."

That was right, today was the day of the Reaping. The first time Rose had ever been eligible, and it was terrifying her.

She remembered growing and watching the Games, seeing the fear that was in the eyes of the children forced to kill each other. She cried every year when it happened, but not for herself. But for the children that were chosen, for the ones that died. She always felt an emotional connection to them as if they were all her own brothers and sisters. Her mother had always been the same way. They were similar in a lot of ways. They both had dark ebony skin, with beautiful long black hair. Before her grandfather died a few years before, he would always say that she looked just like her mother. To Rose, that was a compliment. Her mother was widely seen around town as one of the kindest people you could ever meet, everyone loved her.

Everyone knew her love story, she was Bell, the sweetheart of the town and the desire of every man. Then there was Liam, the quiet worker who never spoke a word but to his parents. They met in the apple orchard, she was wearing a beautiful red dress with white spots on it. She spun through the trees, almost gliding as Liam would later tell it. As she spun, her hand caught the ladder that Liam was standing on, and he fell from the tree, and landed on her. They both laughed as the apples starting raining down on their heads. Without warning she leaned over and kissed him, and they loved each other from that moment on.

Rose smiled as she thought back on that story, and as she watched her mother through the mirror. Her mother was smiling and humming a song as she pulled through the tangles in Rose's hair. She realized that she could truly never love anyone as much as her family.

"Rose!" Shouted her father from the other room.

"We're in here, Liam." Shouted her mother back.

Liam burst into the room and reached down and grabbed Rose,

"It's going to be okay." He whispered and kissed her on her head.

"We're trying to fix her hair." Her mother said with a coy smile.

Liam smiled and pulled Bell in and kissed her on the lips, as they separated he said,

"I can see that now! You look very beautiful my Rose."

"We're not done." Mumbled Rose, discontent to stare at herself in the mirror.

"You could have fooled me! But I shall leave you ladies alone, just talk to your old man before you leave tonight." He said with a bright smile.

Rose giggled and Bell got back to working on her hair.

About after ten minutes, her mother had finished with her hair, and she ran out to see her father. She found him sitting on the old wooden chair with her little sister Lia on his lap. Lia was barely three years old, and everyone in the family adored her. Liam was bouncing her on his leg and singing her an old District 11 song,

"_An old man saw a girl picking apples _

_Down by the orchard, Sue!_

_He told me she was skipping, _

_And she was laughing too. _

_He said, 'That girl was pretty.'_

_I knew then it must be you! _

_He said, 'Don't forget your duty.' _

_Well I say, 'Bring me home one or two.'_

_Because more than duty, _

_I love my apple picker Sue_

_My little apple picker Sue! "_

Lia clapped and laughed as her father tickled her during the last line. Lia didn't know that this song was a direct defiance of the Capitol in remembrance of a girl named Sue that was picking apples and an Old Peace Keeper shot her for stealing. So they sing that song right under the Peace Keepers noses and keep the girl alive through their lyrics and hearts. It was a dangerous song to sing, but Lia loved it so very much. So her father would sing it for her as long as it made her smile. This is just who her family was; kind, caring and above all else, loyal. She was truly blessed to have a family like this, even if life in District 11 was tough, she knew that she could count on her family for anything.

But could they protect her from the Games?

**District 11 **

**2 hours before the Reaping **

"Broose, when are you going to talk to her?" Asked a pudgy boy with a scowl on his face.

"I'm working on a strategy." Replied Broose angrily.

The other sighed, and put his hands behind his head, "I severely doubt that."

"Like you would know anything about girls, Colin."

"Well, that's just not fair. What about me and Fala?"

"She turned you down in an instant."

"Not true. She thought about it for nearly thirty seconds."

"Wow. Thirty seconds. You sure are a heart breaker."

"Well, that's better then you've gotten with Merriam."

"I told you I was working on a strategy."

"Is your strategy following her to school, getting ready to ask her out, and then getting scared and pretending like you hadn't even seen her? Because you use that one almost everyday." Colin finished, with a raised eyebrow.

Broose didn't have a come back for that at all.

"You think I haven't noticed? I'm supposed to know, I'm your best friend." Chuckled Colin.

"I'm seriously starting to doubt that title." Mumbled Broose.

Colin chuckled.

"Since all's quiet on the Merriam front, how's the campaign with Ariel going?" Colin inquired.

"Swimmingly." Replied a defiant Broose.

"And what about Maria?"

"We broke up ages ago."

"It was last week."

"See? Ages."

Colin sighed and rubbed his forehead, "Is there a woman in District 11 you _aren't _wooing?"

"Of course there is." Mumbled Broose, who had put their conversation on the back burner as a hair on his head was being rebellious.

"Who might these lucky ladies be?" Snorted Colin.

"I had to leave the ugly ones for you, Colin." Replied Broose with a smile.

Colin sat up, and with a huff, he stormed out of the room. Broose chuckled, Colin was never really good at taking a joke. He would always get red around the face, and storm off before anyone had a chance to apologize or explain. They had been best friends since they were little, a fact that everyone around town knew. Growing up in District 11, Broose was always…..different. He had light pale skin, which was a rarity in District 11. He also had bright red hair which was also a rarity. He was extremely muscular, and looked for any time or place to flaunt this. He had used his differences to try and gain popularity in his District, and for the most part it had worked. It seemed that the women of District 11 were split nearly in half, they were either madly in love with him, or madly in love with the idea of him falling down a cliff. But he liked his 50/50 chances, and they had worked well for him.

The story was remarkably different for Colin, however.

Colin was universally hated by every female within the range of his beady little eyes. Maybe it was the sweat pouring from his chubby cheeks, maybe it was the sexist comments he made nearly everyday, or maybe it was the fact that he insulted everyone girl he ever liked. Whatever it was, Colin was not a well liked man. The two of them were an interesting combo, to be sure. No one was really sure why the two of them hung out, though everyone had their assumptions. People said that it was nearly a way to feed Broose's steadily growing ego, another would say that Broose felt sorry for Colin, but in the end they were all speculations. Not even Broose or Colin could tell you directly why, but it didn't really bother them.

Him and Colin shared a small house, a little ways away from the town square. Broose and Colin agreed that it was easier to live together, since they worked the same shifts at the orchard. When he wasn't chasing after women or working, he spent a majority of his time at the house. The Peace Keepers in District 11 were, as Colin so eloquently put it; insane. Even someone as carefree as Broose knew to stay away from them, and the simple answer to that was to stay at home. People didn't have _fun _in District 11, or at least not often. Sometimes, when it was really late at night, Broose would come stare out at the stars, sneaking past the Peace Keepers. He would lie on his back and wonder what was the point of all his campaigns. In the grand scheme of things, District 11 was still oppressed. There were days when he would fear for his own life just walking from work to his home. One wrong look, one slip of the tongue and a Peace Keeper would shoot you where you stood. In the end, his constant vying for women's attention just seemed silly or artificial. It's almost like he was trying to ignore what the real problem was, and escape the world through these women.

And of course there was the Hunger Games.

The thing that Broose always feared most. The thing that haunted his dreams at night and clouded his every thought. He always did a lot of thinking at night, about the girls he had hurt, about the world that he was forced to live in, and of course he thought about the Games. He always had life changing revelations at night, but in the morning he seemed to forget them. He would just go back to the carefree, lady killer that he was. Then as the star rose once again he would remember the true horror of a world that he lived in.

But even now, in broad daylight, the idea of the Games hit him like a brick. The Reaping was in just a few hours, and this was his last year eligible. Being 18, he had already suffered through 6 Reaping's, but this would be his last. The last year he trembled in fear as Jossa reached into the bowl and howled out the name of the tribute. Suddenly, it felt like night, because the weight of the world seemed to fall on him. He started going through the usual stages of guilt.

The women whose hearts he devastated.

The parents whose love was never returned.

The best friend he treated like a side kick.

The sense of joy that flooded when he heard someone else's name called.

That's the one that hurt the most, that's the one that made him feel like a coward. He hated feeling like this, even though he knew this is how he was supposed to feel. But as long as the sun was up, he could repress the feelings, at least for a while. So, he shook his head, gave his face a light slap, and ran out the door.

But the feelings did not go away.

The guilt was strangely still stuck within him.

**The Reaping **

It took nearly ten minutes to get out of the house, seeing as her parents were in an emotional mess. Rose wondered if they were more scared or if she was. After all, she hadn't taken out any Tessarae, so odds alone were in her favor. All she had to do was hope that it wasn't one of her friends that ended up being reaped tonight. Her mother had sewn a dress for her, and as she walked around she noticed that a lot of the mothers had done the same for their daughters. Everyone had the same look on their face, the look of absolute terror. She just wanted to go up to all these kids and let them know it was going to be alright. Of course she couldn't actually predict that, or even give them a false sense of security in good conscience. All she could really do was try to get through this, and worry about the other kids later. She wondered what her mom would do in this situation, whether should would try and tell they younger kids to be calm, or not give them false hope. Before she could make that decision, all of the future tributes were ushered into the town square, and around the stage. Suddenly, at what seemed like lightning speed, out stepped Jossa. Rose had always been terrified of Jossa, and with good reason. He was known for being an odd sort of escort. He was in his early thirties, she guessed. He was intolerably skinny, and wore a black suit. It wasn't any of this that scared her, its what he had done to his face. He always had a gruesome obsession with the games, and he always had what appeared to be blood around his lips and face. It was probably just a die, but it looked like it was coming from his teeth, like he had just sunk his teeth into a fresh kill. Not only this, but he despised District 11, and he always carried a red umbrella to block out the sun.

"Welcome." He whispered, closing his eyes for a second.

"I just love this…all of this." He said, stretching his arms out.

Rose scrunched her nose in disgust. He had a blood lust that was cured by watching the Games. This was all just some sick obsession of his.

But he continued on like an escort is supposed to, reading the various scripts and showing the government video.

"Lets get a move on." He said, as he finished his speeches.

Rose closed her eyes and clinched her fists in apprehension.

"Rose Lee." Murmured Jossa as he peeked his head from underneath his umbrella.

Rose stood frozen in place. This didn't make any sense! She only had her name in once, this just didn't make any sense at all. But she didn't have time to figure it out as Jossa signaled for her to come on stage. It was quick as it had started, and before she knew it she was on stage. She just stood there, completely frozen and terrified.

She began to cry.

* * *

Broose rubbed his eyes, he hated that it had to be a 12 year old. He hated that it had to be anybody, but someone that young was going to be a target in the Games.

An easy kill for the Careers.

He hated it, but there wasn't time to focus on it. All he could do was focus on Jossa, and hope that he didn't call Broose's name.

"Who do you think it will be?" Asked Colin, nervously.

"I don't know. Shut up." Mumbled Broose as he noticed a blonde girl smiling at him from across the crowd.

"Broose Nator." Spoke Jossa.

"Yeah, I told you to shut up." Said Broose to Colin.

"Broose Nator, did you hear me?" Asked Jossa again.

The girl's smile went away.

"You ruined it man! She was thinking about getting to know the Broose man a little better." Said an angry Broose to Colin.

Suddenly he realized it wasn't Colin calling his name after all.

It was Jossa.

A couple of Peace Keepers dragged him on stage and threw him at the feet of Jossa.

Jossa put his boot down on Broose's neck,

"If you ever ignore me again, I will make sure you are killed during the Games."

Broose said nothing in response, just nodded. He looked up at the cameras and realized how pitiful this must make District 11 look. He was pinned down on the ground by an escort, and the girl called Rose was crying.

He only hoped the cameras were off.

**[End of District 11 Reaping]**


	12. District 12 Reaping

**District 12 **

**7 hours before the Reaping **

Nothing compliments a horrid nights sleep like the sudden realization the day will be no better. The term misery loves company hadn't fit better in Alaska Kat Harks life then right now. She leaned up from her bed and rubbed her forehead. Her night was full of nightmares and cold sweats. But these weren't just dreams, but vivid interpretations of memories. Painful memories she had spent the last four years trying to be rid of, only for them to rear their ugly head on the worst day of the year. In her dream, she witness's her mother and father shot to death by peace keepers. In her dream, the blood covers the ground, staining everything visible. She looks down at her hands, they haven't escaped the red either. She tries to wash away the blood, but her attempts are fruitless. She looks up at the Peace Keeper that shot her parents, and he reaches for her. His hand mutates and becomes something indiscernible and that's when Alaska woke up. She covers her mouth because she fears she might break out and cry. It wasn't just a dream, the emotions and fear she that she felt the day her parents were killed were brought back into fruition. They were just as real as they were the day she held her mothers hand as she passed.

It was over four yeas ago, when her parents decided they would take her and her little sister, Marina away. She was too young to understand why they were leaving her home in District 12 at the time, but she realized all to well now. Her family was incredibly poor, and her father had become injured in a mining accident. She later found out that Capitol had threatened to take away Alaska and Marina. So they decided to flee, and make for the woods. They hadn't been gone for a day when the Peace Keepers came out of nowhere. They shot her father on sight, and grabbed her mother. Alaska screamed and reached out for her, but her mother just gave her a reassuring smile, and told her that she loved them both very much. They killed her mother, and left Alaska and Marina in the woods alone with the corpses. After Alaska worked hard to bury them, they made their way back to the District, and consequently were thrown into the orphanage. The only thing they had to remember their parents by was her mothers old wedding ring and a necklace her father had made for her mother. They were both very beautiful, and Alaska kept them close at heart. The orphanage in District 12 was notoriously tough, and Alaska and Marina's time there was filled with constant heart ache and the ill treatment by the staff. The other kids were cruel, and the overseers were crueler. Hardly anybody in District 12 could afford feed their own children, let alone want to adopt another. Growing up in the orphanage gave no hope to either of the children, and they often cried themselves to sleep. But so did most of the children at the Orphanage. A lot of the children died, because they couldn't afford to be fed. But Alaska wasn't going to allow that to happen to her or Marina. She took to stealing food, and taking out tessarae when she turned 12. One day, a year ago, when she was 13, she was caught stealing food from the butcher. She was beat severely and left out in the rain. The next day she awoke in the house of Mrs. Everdeen, the town healer. She reminded Alaska so much of her own mother, and found herself drawn to her and her family. Soon, Alaska and Marina were constantly over at the Everdeen household and she became very close to her and Mr. Everdeen. Marina, who was four at the time would play with their youngest, Primrose, while Mr. Everdeen took Alaska and Katniss out and taught them how to hunt. It was dangerous and illegal, but Alaska felt safe around them. After that, things were beginning to look up for Alaska, and she had begun to forget the horrors she witnessed the day her parents died. But then the dreams returned, and she had to witness the tragedy every night, over and over again.

This had been going on for a year, and now Alaska felt like should could cry. It was too much to relive that day every night. Suddenly the whole weight of the world seemed to fall on her, and she burst into tears.

"Alaska. Why are you sad?" Asked a concerned Marina standing at the doorway.

Alaska tried to wipe away her tears, "It's okay. Come here."

Marina ran and jumped on the bed and sat down beside Alaska.

Alaska smiled and reached down on her hand and pulled her moms ring off of her finger.

"I have a gift for you, Marina." She said, holding up the ring.

"What's that?" She said, reaching for it.

"It used to belong to mom, so you have to be really careful." Alaska said, putting it on Marina's ring finger.

Marina held her hand up to her eyes and stared at the ring. She giggled and threw herself back on the bed, so excited to get this treasure. She hadn't shared her mothers gifts with Marina before, because they were so special, and she was afraid that Marina hadn't fully grasped that yet. But Marina was growing up, and although she was still a young child, she would have to grow up fast.

Just like Alaska did.

But for now, Alaska smiled and couldn't help but notice how similar they both were. Same brunette hair, they had their fathers light green eyes and their mothers beauty. Alaska wondered if they were anything like their mother.

She closed her eyes and wished with all of her heart that they were.

**District 12 **

**8 hours before the reaping. **

Riding down the elevator shaft was always unnerving. Seeing the sun disappear as you go deeper and deeper underground is what really shook Rylan Diamond. He grasped the rusted metal hand rail of the elevator, trying to steady himself. He closed his eyes, feeling his balance fading.

"First day, huh?" Asked a surly old man across the elevator.

"Yeah." Choked out Rylan.

"I can always tell when we got fresh meat 'round here. They never get anything done, and I guarantee you pass out by the end of the day." Scoffed the old man, spitting off the side of the elevator.

Rylan lowered his head.

"Well, at least get used to the damn elevator. You'll be riding on her for the rest of your life." Grumbled the old man.

The elevator creaked to a stop, and all the men grabbed their helmets and walked into the dark tunnel.

Except for Rylan.

He was still standing on the elevator, grasping the metal railing.

What the old man had said disturbed Rylan greatly. Of course he knew that this would be his job for his entire adult hood, but somehow it hadn't sunk in until someone said it. Rylan was going to be a coal miner, there was no disputing that fact. It wasn't just that Rylan wasn't interested in coal mining, its that he was a completely different person then all that. Coal miners had this reputation of strong, burly men. Hardened by a life in the mines, and with a no nonsense and somewhat gruff demeanor. Rylan was none of these. He was 18, had dark red hair at shoulder length. He was quite pale, and not what one would call outgoing. He was tall, and very striking. But he was nothing like a coal miner. Coal miners were hard, cold men who had spent more time underground then with their families, or at least that was the consensus. Rylan was terrified of going underground, he always had been. He lacked the physical strength and endurance of a coal miner. This however was his lot in life. His father had been a coal miner, and so would he. He was starting to feel sick. But with all of his physical deficiencies, people were drawn to him. He was very shy, but people always wanted to be around him. Part of it was due to his boyish looks, another being to his kindness and heart. He had always been known as a caring person, frightened easily perhaps, but caring none the less. As much as there were people drawn to him, it seemed that there were just as many who despised him. He had been viciously bullied throughout his childhood, and it had lasting affects. He had become terribly shy, and generally a very fearful boy, even now that he is a man he often finds his heart filled with fear. So that left him clutching the elevator rail, hundreds of feet below ground with sweat pouring down his neck. He was finding it incredibly uncomfortable to breath, and he just wished that he could see the sun.

But everything down here was sinfully dark, and he couldn't even see his shaking hands.

Suddenly a light appears ahead in the tunnel and he sees the old man from earlier wielding a flash light.  
"What are you still doing here? Come one, we got work to do." He says and reaches out and grabs Rylan's arm and pulls him into the depth.

"So seeing as this is your first day, you'll mainly be watching while us men work. You can take notes if you want to." Said the man, and laughed at the last bit as if it were the funniest joke in the world.

He led Rylan through the tunnels and numerous corridors of the coal mine.

"What are all these wooden poles and planks for?" Asked Rylan quietly, noting the wooden beams on the walls.

"That's what's keeping this whole place from collapsing. Them beams is what separates us the great unknown." Answered the old man with a solemn nod.

Rylan frowned, it was a bit disconcerting that these old rotten wooden beams were keeping thousands of pounds of dirt and rock from falling on top of him.

"Eh?" Said the old man, noticing Rylan's anxiousness, "Well, don't get your poor little self all worried up. Aint good for a feminine spirit to be all frettin' and worried."

He laughed at his own joke and motioned for Rylan to follow him.

Rylan sighed, it looked like things weren't going to be different down here then they were at school. But he hadn't heard feminine spirit before, leave it to this guy to come up with a whole new way to demean and hurt him.

Eventually however they did reach their destination, and the old man quickly forgot about Rylan and joined the other men in digging and clearing out one of the tunnels. So while they worked, Rylan found a place to sit. He suddenly remembered what day it was, and that the day didn't just mark his first day at work.

Today was the day of the Reaping.

The Reaping was worst then any fear Rylan could ever conjure, it had haunted his dreams since he was a child. He had been to six of them, and this was his last year. Every year he had seen someone taken, and every year they were killed. Usually one of the tributes from District 1 or 2 killed them. They hardly ever survived the first day.

Rylan hadn't lost anyone close, but then again he really didn't have anyone close. But he at least knew their name when they were chosen. It was strange walking past someone every day, maybe occasionally exchanging a few words. Then just a little while later they are being ripped apart while the world cheers.

It was wrong.

It was sickening.

It was terrifying.

But that's the way it was.

And that's the way it would always be. There was nothing Rylan could do about it. So he sat there in the dark, his head below his knees. The only sound to comfort him was the never ending chorus of pickaxes striking rock and shovels moving dirt. He closed his eyes, feeling the tremendous hopelessness of it all.

He realized in all of this, he was truly and utterly alone.

**The Reaping**

"Ala! I got you a gift too!" Shouted Marina running toward Alaska as fast as she could. Alaska smiled, seeing that Marina had a fresh strawberry raised over her head. By the time she reached Alaska she was out of breath, and just simply handed Alaska the strawberry.

"Where did you get this?" Asked Alaska, frowning.

"I found it."

"No you didn't. You stole this didn't you?"

"Nuh uh. I found it! It was just there and I was supposed to get it so I could give it to you." Finalized Marina, crossing her arms.

Alaska sighed, she didn't mean to be so firm with her, but if she were caught stealing she would get a beating.

"Well, thank you Marina. But please don't do it again." Said Alaska, taking a bite out of the strawberry.

"Where you going?" Asked Marina, looking at how Alaska was dressed.

"I have to go the town square. But I'll be back tonight. Can you go stay with Mrs. Everdeen, please?" Asked Alaska.

Marina nodded and ran off to do just that.

"Alaska! There you are." Shouted Malon, Alaska's closest friend.

"Hey Malon." Said Alaska quietly.

"Did you hear about that guy, Rylan Diamond? I heard he has his name in _58 _times! He must of taken out a bunch of tessarae. I heard his father and mother don't work anymore and he had to do that all himself since he was eligible. I feel really sorry for the guy, he really doesn't talk much. But he seemed really nice, and he was super cute. But I guess that doesn't matter to Effie. Or does it? No, that's right its all random. Silly me, I forgot. Alaska? Are you even listening to me?"

She wasn't. Malon had a habit of rambling, and mainly about nothing of importance. Besides, she was distracted today. Surely even someone like Malon would be frightened or at least nervous during all this. But that's not the way it appeared, because she went on to talk about the boys in class she liked and the never ending political side of young romance. She nearly talked the entire time until finally they were separated and placed at different parts of the crowd.

She noticed the lights on the camera went red, and now all that had to happen was the escort to come out and announce the "winners" .

But out stepped someone she didn't recognize.

She was a woman in her mid 20s and was dressed extravagantly. She had pink hair that was pinned up like a tracker jacker nest.

"Hello! My name is Effie Trinket, I am your new escort. I must say that I absolutely adore your little district!" She said with a fake capitol smile.

_Little? _Thought Alaska.

She wasn't sure why she was offended, but she was.

After about 10 minutes of speeches and inspirational videos, Effie moved things along quickly.

"Alright, ladies! Be prepared to cheer for your female representative!" Effie said, enthusiastically.

Alaska reached up and grabbed on to her mothers necklace, holding on to it tightly.

"Alaska Hart."

Her father being shot.

The look in her mothers eye before she too was shot.

Marina crying herself to sleep after one the overseers hit her.

The cruel and painful upbringing in the orphanage.

All of these things was like a chain, a never ending chain of pain and suffering. Alaska thought that the chain had finally broken when she met the Everdeens, but that was just the universe setting her up for more suffering.

A single tear left her eye as she made her way on stage. She stared at the faces of the crowd, and suddenly things seemed different. She had enough of being sad, the world had dealt her a cruel hand. That was unfair. But she had been sad about it her whole life. Suddenly she was furious… furious about everything had ever happened to her. She clinched her fist, and waited for the male tribute.

* * *

Rylan's parents hadn't said goodbye. But then again he hadn't really expected them too. They had checked out, as he liked to put it, years ago. He had to feed them now, and take care of them. It was a painful task, but he didn't mind doing it. He still loved them after all. But now, they were the last thing on his mind. Right now, he was terrified it was going to be his name chosen. He had his name in more then any other person in the entirety of the district. The odds were most definitely not in his favor.

He tried to calm his breathing, but he only found this to make it worse. He closed his eyes and waited for Effie to announce someone's name.

"It's going to be you." Laughed one the Rylan's bullies, who was standing beside him.

Rylan said nothing, but waited apprehensively while Effie fished through the boys names.

"Rylan Diamond." She said and scanned the crowd for him.

"Told you. I guess the town should make three coffins, one for you and two for your idiot parents." Laughed the bully. Then Rylan did something he had never done.

He punched the boy in the face, knocking him to the ground.

Then he ran as fast as he could toward the woods, and towards freedom.

Everything just piled up at once, his entire life he hadn't defended himself once.

Well, he had sure picked a hell of a time to do it.

He knew it would be seconds before the Peace Keepers caught him. He knew that it was pointless to run, but he wasn't thinking on literal terms right now. But he was caught, for he was faster then they had expected, and he reached the fence before they were even twenty feet behind him. He ran up to the fence, and attempted to scale it before they reached him.

In the back of his mind he knew that this was all futile. But he was tired of lying down, and from now on he was going to fight as hard as he could. No matter what the consequences.

He was half way up the fence when he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. A second later he heard the bang of the gun.

They had shot him.

He fell to the ground, and grabbed his shoulder. He could feel the blood escaping at an alarming rate.

Why would they shoot him? They needed a tribute, and he was chosen. Maybe they were just trying to stun him, or stop him.

Before he had figured it out, he looked up to see the Peace Keepers gun coming down on his head.

**[ End of District 12 Reaping. Train Rides are next!]  
**


	13. Train Rides Pt 1: Confusion at 200 MPH

It was exactly midnight, and President Snow breathed in the crisp cool air. He stared out at the busy Capitol streets as the flurry of nightly activities continued.

"Mr. President?" Squeaked a little man from behind Snow.

"What do you want, Mio?" He asked.

Mio gulped, and handed Snow a small letter.

"What is this?" Said Snow as he reached for a small knife in his pocket.

"It's the tribute list for this years Games, Mr. President." Mio said slowly.

Snow said nothing, and used the knife to open the letter. He pulled out a sheet of paper and began to read it

* * *

**District 1  
**

Emerald Kyle: Age 18

Rebekah Michaels: Age 17

**District 2**

Felix Kingsley: Age 17

Alexandra Mason: Age 14

**District 3  
**

Aron Pol: Age 13

Ali Snider: Age 14

**District 4**

Mason Videl: Age 15

Angela Odair: Age 15

**District 5**

Orion Northcliff: Age 17

Whitley Hedge: Age 15

** District 6**

Kaiven Lackney-Browan: Age 14

Megan Darner: Age 14

**District 7  
**

Damon Sommers: Age 16

Leah Van Tassle: Age 12

**District 8 **

Gad Denali: Age 17

Juliette Morgan: Age 16

**District 9  
**

Silo Harrow: Age 16

Lee Ann Bell: Age 15

**District 10**

Thomas Jones "TJ": Age 16

Lorena Rodriguez: Age 18

**District 11  
**

Broose Nator: Age 18

Rose Lee: Age 12

**District 12**

Rylan Diamond: Age 18

Alaska Kat Hark: Age 14

* * *

President Snow nodded, and put the letter back in the envelope.

"Thoughts?" Asked Mio.

"There's a lot of young careers. District four sent us two children." Murmured Snow.

"They appear more than qualified, other wise they wouldn't be here." Piped in Mio.

Snow frowned, "They had better put on a show. Last years Games went down in ratings."

"You mean to say that people weren't watching?" Asked Mio innocently.

Snow rolled his eyes, "Just get out of here. The tributes will be arriving soon."

Snow watched as Mio shuffled off like a little rat. Snow honestly was getting tired of all of this, he grew bored of the Games. But this year would be different, this was the year that would bring back the fire. This was the year that Snow had designed the Arena himself. He chuckled as he lit a pipe, knowing full well the tributes had no idea what was coming their way.

They had no idea the hell that was awaiting them.

**Train ride out of District 1 **

Rebekah Michaels stared out the window at the passing scenery. Not that there was much scenery to be seen, at these speeds everything was a blinding blur. But she at least wanted to appear as if she was enjoying her view, if only to avoid conversation with her fellow career Emerald Kyle and Alon, the District 1 escort. Both of them made Rebekah horridly uncomfortable. She didn't plan on talking to either of them during the train ride at all, all she wanted to do was relax and try and concentrate on the Games.

She remembered her mother and father coming in to see her before she boarded the train. Her mother hugged her and told her to be safe, and her father exchanged words with Emerald. She found this odd at the time, but hadn't focused on it. Next up was Marvel, who held her and cried She kissed him on the head and told him to listen to his mother. Lastly, when it seemed too late, Ric appeared. He seemed to have forgotten everything, and he just ran up and hugged her as tight as he could.

"Be safe." He whispered. Then he reached for her hand, kissed it, and left.

Her hand still felt warm, and that was nearly an hour ago.

"You okay?" Asked Emerald.

She turned to see that he had made his way across the train and had positioned himself beside her.

"I'm fine. Just a little nervous." She said with a smile.

He reached his hand for hers, "You'll do great. We can protect each other."

Every word of his seemed genuine, almost seductive. She knew that all the girls in District 1 were madly in love with him, and she knew his reputation. But something about him she didn't trust, something seemed off. But even still, she didn't take her hand away from his. It felt frozen in place, completely surrounded by his

"Have you seen Diamond?" Shouted an irate Alon.

"She said she was on her way." Replied Emerald as he removed his hand from Rebekah's.

Her hand felt warm, just as warm as it did when Ric kissed it.

Ric.

She loved Ric, she loved him more than anything in the world. So why was she so drawn to Emerald? He was undeniably handsome, and had a somewhat innocent charm about him. Something about his brown eyes just seemed to draw her in, as if he knew all the answers to all the questions she had. As if he was the only one in the world that understood her.

She shook the thought away. This was ridiculous! She had only just barely met him and was almost about to run away with him. She honestly felt as if she had been drugged.

"Where the hell is that woman." Muttered a still bitter Alon.

"Right behind you." Hissed an older woman, holding a knife to Alon's throat.

Emerald and Rebekah both stared in complete shock, unsure what to do. Alon just froze, breathing rapidly.

"And that is how easy it can be." Said the woman, removing the knife from Alon's throat and placing it by her side.

"You're Diamond." Said Emerald with a smile.

Diamond smiled a wicked smile, "The most dangerous woman in District 1 to be exact."

Rebekah had heard of Diamond, but had never met her. All she knew was that she had one the games when she was 16, nearly 20 years ago. There had been other victors from District 1, but she was the most famous, and she always trained and helped the tributes.

"It's an honor." Said Emerald, bowing his head.

"You're right." Scoffed Diamond.

"What did you mean a minute ago?" Asked Rebekah.

"When I said, 'and that's how easy it can be?'" Asked Diamond.

Rebekah nodded.

Diamond chuckled, "That's how easy it can be to kill an idiotic Tribute."

As she said this, she grabbed Alon once again and with blinding speed had the knife at his throat again.

Rebekah was shocked once more, but Emerald had a smile on his face and a sinister smile to accompany it.

"There will be nothing but naïve little children out there. Make sure you take them out first. They are always priority. Worry about the Careers later, you're going to need them at the beginning." Diamond said, finally releasing a shaken Alon.

Emerald began to ask her about important arteries in the neck and which were the easiest to cut. Rebekah figured the information would be handy, but in the end her mind just flashed back to Ric. Back to the confusing thoughts that Emerald had created by simply putting his hand on hers, like he had undone all of the feelings that she had for Ric.

No, he hadn't undone them. But she was sure that he had shaken them. So, she walked over to a different seat, and stared out the window. Once again she pretended to be preoccupied with the blurry movements outside the window. She had to pretend that Emerald hadn't had an affect on her.

That he hadn't changed her.

**Train ride out of District 2 **

Felix paced between the seats as his District partner Alexandra said nothing. He hadn't really expected her to say anything, she still must be shocked from finding out she was going to be a tribute just minutes before Games. Curious, he turned to see what she was doing.

She was sitting on the seat with her hands folded on her lap neatly. Her face was completely blank, almost as if she were asleep. But her eyes were open, and he noticed an agitated tap with her foot. He didn't really know what to make of her at this point, her quiet demeanor was unnerving for him. She was just concentrating, or at least that's what he figured. Or maybe she was scared, maybe she wasn't ready for this. After all, she was only 14 and here solely because the girl ahead of her got injured. He wondered if she was terrified on the inside, if she was thinking about jumping out the back of the train. Maybe she would hold Ira hostage and demand to be let out into the wild to survive. Or maybe-

"I've had enough!" Shouted Alexandra, stabbing her knife into the table.

"You've had enough of what, dear?" Asked Ira, who had been sitting across the table.

"I'm ready for my training! Where's Brutus gone? I haven't seen him since this morning." Alexandra demanded.

Felix smiled, maybe she wasn't scared after all.

Ira smiled, "Brutus isn't on the train, he decided to sit out on this one."

"Who's going to be our mentor?" Asked Felix.

Ira turned her eyes to Felix, and his stomach dropped. The rumors about her were true, she was beautiful. Her eyes seemed to dig into to him, and was worried that he might be sweating.

"Normally it would be Brutus, but he had a _personal _problem back at District 2. Enobaria is waiting for you at the hotel. I believe she will be a more than capable mentor." Ira said, her eyes glued to Felix.

"Are you serious? Brutus was supposed to be teaching us now! We were supposed to go over strategy's and ideas on what to do at the Capitol and-" Sputtered Alexandra.

"Enobaria will be a more that capable mentor." Said Ira in a firmer tone of voice.

"As for what to do at the Capitol," Continued Ira, finally turning her eyes away from Felix, "I can teach you some things. After all, I am some what of an expert on Capitol behavior."

"In all fairness," Started Felix, "We aren't here to get a history lesson on the Capitol. I've never been one for big events and fancy dinners. I'm here to learn how the Games work so I can do what I do best."

Ira smiled and walked up to Felix, placing her hands on his chest.

"I think you could stand to learn a couple things from me." She said, almost in a whisper.

Felix stood like a statue, shocked at her advance. He glanced over at Alexandra and she seemed just as shocked as he was. Ira moved her hand over to Felix's heart, and he could feel it start to speed up. As they stood they for a moment, he wondered what she would do next.

Suddenly, she just laughed and removed her hand. He almost felt as if a weight had been removed from his chest, and for a second he missed it. Ira threw herself back down on the chair and laughed again,

"You really are something, aren't you Felix?"

Neither of the tributes spoke, but merely stood there in shocked silence.

"As far as the Capitol goes, I can train you on how to conduct your selves in public, what greeting to use, how to address the higher ups, ect ect. How to talk the capitol talk, so to say." Ira said, as if nothing had happened a minute ago.

"The Capitol can't be all that complicated." Snorted Alexandra.

"You have no idea, little girl." Ira said with a coy smile.

The room got silent as the two of them stared each other down, both of them refusing to break the stare. Felix was starting to worry that they might start brandishing weapons, or at least threatening to. He was seriously starting to wonder if an alliance with Alexandra would be wise, if she can't even keep calm with an escort. Alexandra was starting to look angry, her lip was quivering and her nostrils were flared. Meanwhile, Ira just stared with a devious smile. She almost looked amused by Alexandra's fury, like this is what she was intending. Was she trying to test Alexandra? Was she trying to see how wild her temper was? Surely District 2 was known for the occasional hot head, but this "test" seemed unnecessary. What was she trying to accomplish? Was she testing him with her flirtatious advances as well? What could she possibly learn from that, it made absolutely no sense at all. Felix was starting to feel incredibly uncomfortable with the whole thing.

"I guess I have a lot to learn. I'm yours to teach." Said Alexandra, relaxing herself and leaning back against the seat.

_She must have caught on,_ thought Felix.

"Very well. There are many things that need to be done before we reach the Capitol. But who says we can't have a little fun first, isn't that right Felix?" Ira said, digging her eyes into him.

"Whatever you say, Ira." He said, trying to act nonchalant.

"That's a good boy." She said, standing up.

"You can bring in the food now!" She shouted, banging on the door that lead to the hallway.

A moment later a couple of Avox came into the room pushing several carts of food and drinks. All of the foods were beautiful and the drinks were eloquent, all of it was inviting.

"Well go on, eat!" Exclaimed Ira, who was busy pouring herself a drink.

Alexandra was the first to fill her plate, but Felix was more hesitant. He had been accustomed to food like this when his father worked for the Capitol, so he could control himself. But he had the inkling that this was another test, and he wasn't sure why.

"Felix, darling, could you come here for a sec?" Hummed Ira.

Felix walked past an eating Alexandra and sat down in the seat across from Ira. As he sat down, she poured him a glass and slid it over to him.

"To new tributes." She said, holding her glass up.

"To new tributes." He echoed, and took a sip.

She smiled, and poured him a little more.

"Now you make a toast." She said, grinning like a fool.

Felix thought about it for a moment, and finally said, "May the odds be ever in our favor."

Ira smiled, and took a sip of her glass. Felix suddenly felt very silly, and he was unsure why. He felt exposed talking to Ira, and he was unsure of what to say or do. That didn't happen often to Felix Kingsley. Suddenly, Ira leaned across the table and whispered,

"I hope you can win." She said softly.

With that, she got up, took the bottle and went back into her room. Felix sat down in his chair, more confused than ever. So he just lowered his head on the table, and closed his eyes. He hoped when he opened them this insufferable train ride would be over.

**Train ride out of District 3**

Ali watched him as he sat huddled up in the corner of the seat. It was hard to believe this was the little brother of Marko. They were so different in almost every feasible way, it was just hard to believe they were related.

_Aron Pol must be adopted_, she thought.

Before she boarded the train, her father had come to see her one last time. She was worried that this was to much for him, that two of his children, and potentially his last was going to cause him to go crazy. But he just hugged her and whispered in her ear,

"You have to win, Ali!"

She felt tears coming to her eyes as she remembered this, and suddenly her thoughts went to her brothers. She didn't know where they were now, but she hoped that they were watching her. That maybe she could make them proud, somehow. She just hoped she didn't have to go through what her brothers went through: to die in utter and complete fear.

Wiress and Beetee had joined them in the cab of the train, but had stayed strangely quiet during the first part of the trip. Ali noticed that Wiress was studying Aron as well, not quite sure what to make of him.

"Do you have any advice for us?" Asked Ali.

"Nothing that would do you any good." Spoke Beetee.

"Beetee." Hushed Wiress.

"What do you mean?" Spoke a now curious Aron.

"You both are thirteen, and you're from District 3. What do you think it means?" Said Beetee.

"Beetee!" Shouted Wiress.

Ali was shocked. Was he really implying that it was impossible for them to win? That they didn't even have a chance?

"Don't worry, we will do every thing in our power to help you two." Wiress said, after correcting Beetee.

"How?" Asked Ali, taking a breath.

"Well," Sighed Beetee, "We will supply you with all of our knowledge on the Games, and try to get you as best prepared for the Games as you can."

"Do you know what the layout will be?" Asked Ali.

"That's the problem, the Arena is different every year, you don't know if you're going to end up a dense forest or the middle of a damn desert. The only thing we can do is give you _strategies _and get you ready for every feasible Arena."

"That's not all," Wiress interrupted, "We can talk to sponsors and try and get people excited about you two, to get them to support you."

"No one is going to sponsor us." Muttered Aron.

"Not without our help." Replied Wiress.

Aron glared at her but said nothing.

"What can we do to impress sponsors?" Piped up Ali, breaking the silence.

"That's where I can help." Spoke up Yume, the District 3 escort.

Beetee sighed and rubbed his forehead, and Wiress smiled. Ali was curious what the relationship between these three must be, but she didn't have time to think about it as Yume continued,

"I will be the one that keeps you little kids in line. I can be the one to make sure you are presentable and perfect. I can help you rehearse what to say, and when to say it. By the time I am through with you, all the sponsors will be calling your name."

"But for now," Wiress said with a smile, "Lets get some food in you two. We have a long ride ahead of us."

Wiress, Beetee, and Yume all left on the search for food and Ali was left with Aron once again. He still wasn't saying anything, just simply leaning his head against the glass. Ali sighed and decided that if he didn't want to talk, he didn't have to. She would be fine just sitting here in the quiet until the mentors got back.

"You're a friend of Marko…right?" Asked Aron softly.

"Well, yes. I guess you could say that." She responded, taken off guard he would initiate conversation. It was hard for her to describe how she felt about Marko, because she was just finding out her self. She figured that she should stay quiet, but her curiosity got the best of her.

"Can I ask you something?" She said.

"I suppose." Replied Aron, keeping his head on the glass.

"Well…you see…" She started, "I noticed that no one in your family came to see you leave. Aren't you and Marko close?"

Aron didn't respond right away, and for a second she thought that he might not respond at all.

"We were." He said, finally.

"What happened?" Ali asked.

"When my Mom died, it changed everything." Aron said slowly.

"I'm so sorry. How did she die?" Asked Ali.

"When she died, Marko had to take care of me. My dad was too sad." Aron continued.

Ali wondered why he didn't answer his question, and his face changed when she asked.

"So what happened with you and Marko?" She asked.

Aron turned around, "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry." She said slowly.

That was the last she was able to get out of him until the food arrived and the mentors with it. Even still, he didn't bother to get much food, and he would take it back to the corner of the train and eat it alone. She wondered what had happened to him to make his this way, she wondered what had happened with Marko. She realized she knew nothing about this kid, not even a little.

"He'll never get any sponsors with that attitude." Muttered Yume.

"He has to get his confidence up, or he'll never stand a chance." Agreed Beetee.

Ali sighed and sat down, and stared at Aron. As she stared at him, she gasped as she saw Marko for a second, sitting in the same chair. She suddenly realized that he was more like Marko than she cared to admit. As she stared at him, she saw Marko. A younger, much more scared Marko. A Marko that wasn't sure of his place in this world, and that made him all the more scared. Aron may not be Marko, but Ali knew that she cared whether he lived or died. She couldn't stand the thought of him dying, because all she could see was Marko.

She would protect him with her life.

**[End of Train Rides Part 1.]**


	14. Train Rides Pt 2: Lets Talk Strategy

_(It has been a long time since I last updated this. School and other commitments have kept me busy and my fear was the people that were interested in this story had surely lost interest in it by now. But I decided to finish it for my own sake, and because it's hard for me to leave the story in limbo like that. There will be a victor for the 67__th__ Annual Hunger Games! Also, if you are a new reader, please go back and read the Reaping chapters, because they set up everything up and without those these characters have no background, no history. )_

**Train Ride out of District 4**

Everything smelled delicious, between the Bison Steaks and the glorious salads filled with fruits he had never even seen before. Mason Videl was tempted beyond reason to enjoy himself, given the circumstances. After he had his name called just hours ago, he had been rushed to a prepping center to briefly say goodbye to his family while the crew took down the stage and loaded the train. He sat in the darkened room and waited for the door to open and see his father and mother with open arms and tears in their eyes.

But they didn't.

This perplexed Mason at first, but then recalled his brother, Marty. He was supposed to volunteer this year, and save his Mason if he were chosen. But Marty just stood frozen in the crowd with tears in his eyes. He was afraid to volunteer, even for his little brother. Mason only assumed that his father was so ashamed of Marty that neither of them could dare show their faces. Mason decided that could be the only explanation, and even though he tried not to, loneliness crept on him like a shadow and completely covered him. For a moment, he let it engulf him, and he wept. But then the door finally opened, and his friend Hara Rain and his mother came in with smiling faces. He wiped away the tears for a second and tried to force a smile, but it only lasted for a moment as he broke down in tears again and they held him for as long as the peacekeepers would allow. But after they had gone, he felt rejuvenated. The people he loved most had come to see him together, and he started feeling more confident. This confidence paired with the aching hunger that had ravaged him since he entered the train left him the difficult choice of enjoying the food that his executers had provided for him. He wondered if his District partner felt the same way, and turned to see what she was up to. She wasn't in the train car with him, and he pondered where should could possibly be. Ahead of him was District 4's escort Renaldo Jarl, who was humming to himself in the far corner of the train and looking out the window as the train sped past beaches and oceans. Suddenly he heard the sound of an automatic sliding door open, and he turned around to see Angela and their mentor, Finnick Odair. It was interesting to Mason that Finnick had been chosen to mentor them, considered Mags was known as an excellent mentor and Finnick had only just won recently. But he put away the thought quickly and studied Angela, trying to figure out exactly how she would help him in the games. She seemed fiery enough, and he knew she could fight. If they played their cards right, they could end up impressing the careers and maybe even joining them when the games started. Finnick motioned for Mason to join him and Angela. Mason nodded and grabbed some sort of bread he couldn't recognize and followed them out the back of the train car. They walked in silence for a moment, going several train cars back until they were completely removed from Renaldo's incessant humming. Suddenly Finnick stopped walking and sat down at one of the booths and buried his head into his hands. Angela and Mason exchanged a confused glance at each other before Angela sat down beside Finnick.

"I'll be alright." Said Angela quietly, as if she didn't quite believe it.

Mason frowned, Angela and Finnick were cousins, and they both probably knew that this was a disadvantage. Relatives of victors rarely made the Games, and when they did they were ruthlessly targeted by other tributes.

Finnick lifted his head, "I don't think you understand."

"I can take care of myself, I'm not scared. I have Odair blood, I can win this." Angela said confidently.

Finnick sighed, "Sometimes I wonder if winning was really was worth it."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Exclaimed Mason.

Finnick turned his head to Mason, as if he had forgotten he was there, "Winning isn't all glory and fame. There is a whole other side to Victors that you don't even know."

"Finnick, what are you talking about?" Said Angela, who was either losing her patience or her nerve.

"What are you talking about indeed?"

Everyone turned to see Renaldo Jarl standing in the doorway.

"Well?" He asked again, eyeing Finnick.

Finnick lowered his head, "It's nothing."

Mason glanced at the two of them, and it was clear that Finnick was hiding something that they both knew. He noticed Angela was staring at him, and he could see the concern in her eyes.

Renaldo glared at Finnick with a disconcerting smile on his face, "Come children, follow me will you? Finnick and I must get you prepared for the Games as soon as possible."

Finnick seemed to lose all the confidence that Mason had seen him with all the years he had known him, and Finnick got up and followed Renaldo out the train car like a sheep led to slaughter. Once again Angela and Mason exchanged another concerned glance, and their confusion was only doubled by Renaldo's entrance. But they begrudgingly followed their escort and mentor, completely unsure of either of them and horribly unsettled by the last few minutes. Mason really wondered if they stood a chance after all.

**Train Ride out of District 5**

It was surreal, it felt like the worst of nightmares. Except Whitley Hedge wasn't even near the end of dream, she was at the beginning. It was terrible knowing that you are at the beginning of a nightmare, and that the worst is yet to come. But yet here she is, riding on a train to the Capitol, going 200 MPH towards what she felt like was her funeral. Her family had all rushed in to see her in a big pile, and she couldn't help but smile as they practically filled the room she was being kept in. Even Brock and Amata were in a fit of tears as they all hugged her and held her tight. The Peace Keepers had to pull her father away from her and toss him outside. He even tried to get back in before they hit him and sent him back home. He was lucky that the Peace Keepers were kind, most would have shot him right there. She knew that this must be terrible for them, first Luc and now her. She stared out the window, and wondered how her brother Luc must have felt a year ago when he was chosen. He probably wouldn't have been the emotional wreck that she currently was. He probably would have spent this time tying to comfort the girl from his district, completely forgetting about himself to help someone else. She turned to her right to see her District Partner sitting quietly and staring out the window. In all honesty she didn't really know anything about him, in fact she had never even seen him before. He was a complete enigma to her, but at the same time she could almost sense a kindness in him. But all she knew about him was his name was Orion and he had volunteered for River, who was a kind young boy that would have definitely would have died during the games.

"What do you want?" Asked Orion, who had apparently noticed she was staring.

She quickly turned her head away and sunk into her chair, embarrassed for having been caught staring.

Orion slowly turned his head back and mumbled, "Where the hell is Mariola?"

"I think she went back to her room to sleep." Whitley said softly.

Orion cursed and crossed his arms, "No escort and no mentor, we were supposed to get advice on the ride over!"

It was true, their mentor, Kallo, was waiting for them in The Capitol, haven been unable to make the ride over to District 5.

They both sat quietly for a few minutes, unsure of what to do in each others company.

Suddenly Whitley could no longer contain herself and she blurted out, "Why did you volunteer for River?"

Orion lowered his head and shrugged, "I just thought it was the right thing to do I guess."

Whitley could sense that there was something Orion wasn't telling her, but she didn't pursue the question further.

"Well, it was very brave of you either way." She said quietly.

Orion shrugged again and stared out the window. After a few more minutes of silence, he turns back to Whitley and asks,

"Aren't you Brocks sister?"

Whitley smiled, "That's me."

Orion smiled and nodded, " He used to train with me, a couple of years ago. I guess, he figured it wasn't priority."

"He's kind of lazy." Laughed Whitley, feeling comfort from talking about her family.

"So is my brother, Otto." Chuckled Orion.

Whitley smiled, "Do you have a lot of brothers and sisters?"

Orion laughed, "I have three brothers and a sister."

"Wow! I just have two brothers and a sister." She responded.

Suddenly she remembered Luc, and the horror of seeing him die in the games.

Orion seemed to notice the pain on her face and asked, "Luc was in the Games last year, wasn't he?"

Whitley nodded.

"He was brave." Commented Orion, as if unsure what to say.

Whitley said nothing, and once again sunk deep into her chair as if to hide from the world. Everything in her just wished Luc were here with her now, to tell her that everything is going to be okay and rescue her from the games.

But he's dead, and he could never help her again.

All she wanted to do was jump out the train window and-

"You know, it's never too early to talk strategy."

Whitley turned around to see a smiling Orion who had just made the suggestion.

"I'm just saying, that it's in our best interest to stick together, at least near the beginning. There's no point in running into this thing alone."

Whitley didn't know whether she could trust Orion, she didn't know him at all. She had no compass to follow, she was unsure of what path she should take. But then she thought about Luc, and she remembered the peace he had during the games, even up till the end. She started to think about what Luc would do, and she knew that he would go out on a limb for almost anyone, and he would have trusted this Orion. So she decided that Luc would be her compass, and she would play the game as closely to how he played as she could.

So as the train continued its momentum towards the capitol, and Whitley decided she would trust Orion, and they began to strategize for the Games.

**Train Ride out of District 6**

After all these years, Megan was finally riding on the trains. Although she never thought it would be under these circumstances. She half hoped this would be the train her mother worked on, but no such luck. She wasn't sure which train her mother was working on these days, and it pained her desperately that she didn't get to say goodbye to her. It didn't help her District partner was brooding behind her, she could practically see the steam rising off of him he was so angry. What he had said to her after he had been chosen for the Hunger Games still stuck with her, and she hadn't dared to ask what he meant.

"_You can be the one to kill me if you want." _

Had he truly already given up? This was unacceptable, as district partners they needed to work together if they wanted to survive. Giving up made no sense to Megan, in her world if you have a problem, you figure out a way to fix it and then you fix it. Giving up wasn't in her vocabulary, and it bothered her beyond belief. Besides, he hadn't said a single word the entire ride so far, he just sat in the back of the train and stared ahead as if in anticipation. They were both still waiting for their mentor who was supposedly sitting at the front of the train. Meanwhile their escort, Quim was sitting across from them and fixing her hair. She hadn't said a word to them the whole time, and Megan got the feeling that Kaiven made her as nervous as he made Megan. Megan decided that no matter how nervous Kaiven made her, they needed to work together. So despite herself, she got up and started walking back to the train. As she walked back to the train, she felt like she was walking in slow motion. He followed her every step, and she felt his eyes digging into hers. But there was only contempt hidden in his light grey eyes, and each step Megan took she became more and more uneasy.

"What do you want?" He grunted.

"Um, well. I just figured we should get to know each other on the account of-"

"The account of what?" Interrupted Kaiven, "Our 'situation'? Don't you get it? District 6 tributes don't win. That's a fact. If you want to fight that, go ahead. But you won't get my help, so don't even bother to ask."

Megan was completely taken back, and before she even time to respond he leaned back and his seat, and with a smug grin said,

"Move along."

Before she even had time to respond, a voice boomed behind them,

"She's right you know."

Kaiven and Megan turned to see where the voice had come from. Standing across the train car stood Terom, their mentor and District 6 champion. He was an imposing figure, standing a head above Megan and Kaiven. He had a long grey beard and a scruffy mustache that hung over it like a wet shirt over a clothes line. His face had more wrinkles and scars than Megan had ever seen on a man, and his face was scrunched in a permanent scowl. He slowly made his way across the train towards the two of them, glaring directly at Kaiven. He sat down in a booth in front of them and motioned for them to sit with him. Megan almost smiled as Kaiven scurried his way over to the booth, completely terrified of this old man for some reason.

Right as Megan sat down beside Kaiven, Terom stuck his thick finger in Kaivens face,

"You are a fool. A damn fool." He grunted.

Kaiven said nothing, his mouth was wide open in shock.

Terom didn't wait for a response before continuing, "In the Games, working alone has no advantage. You aren't careers, you can't expect to stand a chance in one on one combat. Strength in numbers. Remember that boy, and you might just survive the first day."

Megan liked this old man, if only for his ability to shut Kaiven up.

Suddenly he whipped his head to Megan, "You on the other hand, might actually stand a chance. Do you have any skills? Combat? Medical? Plant Knowledge? Come on, give me something."

"Well," Started Megan, "I guess I'm pretty good with technology. You know, gadgets and stuff."

Terom sighed, "It's better than nothing I guess. Just pray to God they don't drop you in the middle of a damn jungle during the Games."

"Oh, please Terom," Shouted Quim from the other side of the train car, "Will you stifle your language a bit?"

Terom laughed a deep, bellowing laugh and stood up from the table. He marched over to Quims booth shouting every swear and curse he could muster along the way before she finally scuttled her way out of the Train Car. Megan turned to Kaiven smiling, but he had gone back to the brooding boy she had seen not minutes ago. She thought back on what he had said to her during the Reaping, and she shuddered. She had absolutely no idea who she was entering the Games with.

But she felt horribly alone.

End of Chapter 14.

(Reviews are always appreciated!)


	15. Train Rides Pt 3: Problematic Partners

_(You guys have no idea how busy the last (six months?) has been and I've barely had any time for writing. In fact, I believe I have gotten quite rusty. If indeed the first few chapters suck, let it be known that I am getting back into the swing of things and I expect they get better the more I write. )_

**Train Ride Out of District 7: **

He couldn't stand the stuffy, cramped feeling of the train car, nor could he stand the incessant coughing of Hans, their District 7 escort. So during Hans speech about etiquette and presentation, Damon slipped out the back and headed for the rear of the train. He just really needed to be alone, and to think. He made his way to the very last train car, and exited the door to the rear of the train. From here, he could see everything as they sped past him, and it was a little sickening. Usually the back of a train is kept open, with only a rail keeping one from the train and the ground. But when a train is going 200 MPH, and it's full of Tributes with escape on their mind, the back is a little different. There was a glass wall everywhere there should be nothing, preventing any jumpers from attempting. But it was see through, which made it all the more torturous to see freedom but be blocked from it. But Damon didn't have freedom on the mind, he'd rather take his chances in the Games than out in the wild. It would only be a few more hours before they arrived at the Capitol, and he had studied the games enough not to have to listen to Hans or their mentor. Instead, his mind kept drifting to Caroline. She was his little sister, and now that he was gone, she was all alone. Ever since their parents died, she hadn't said a word. He had been her voice for many years, and he was sick with fear of what would happen to her. They had no family, no one to take care of her. Without him, she would be utterly alone. He slammed the glass wall in frustration, but it only hurt his fist. He examined it, he had ripped some skin off the top layer and it was bleeding and dripping down his wrist.

"Here" Spoke a voice behind him.

He turned around to see Leah, the little girl who was chosen during the Reaping. She was holding out a handkerchief and looking at his knuckle.

He nodded at her and took the handkerchief, wrapping it around his hand.

"Does this belong to Hans?" Asked Damon, pointing to his makeshift gauze.

Leah smiled, "The old walrus fell asleep in the middle of his speech. I figure he didn't need it."

Damon scrunched his eyebrows, "This isn't the one he was coughing into is it?"

Leah rolled her eyes, "I'm not that dumb."

Damon shrugged, "How the hell was I supposed to know how dumb you are. You're a kid, all kids are dumb."

Leah frowned and sat down beside him, and stared off into the blurry shapes that they passed so fast.

"Are you nervous?" She asked softly.

"No."

"Well, why not?" Leah continued.

Damon sighed, there was no getting rid of this girl apparently.

"Have you ever stopped to consider I might be thrilled to be in the Games?" He asked.

Leah hesitated for a moment, as if thinking about what he said, "Is that why you were acting so excited when you were picked?"

"Yes."

Damon looked away back to the glass wall, hoping she would take her cue and leave. But she just sat there, as if only to be in his company, even if he was clearly uninterested in hers. In a way, he felt sorry for her. She was only 12, just a year older than Caroline. In that aspect, he understood that why she wanted to be near him. She was scared, just like Caroline would have been. But he cant be an older brother to every kid in the games. He knew it would get him killed and it would break his heart before he died. But he knew that she didn't want to spend her time with Hans, and he couldn't blame her for that. So the very least he could do was allow her to stay, so long as she didn't talk the whole ti-

"It's a game isn't it? You're trying to appear intimidating by being excited about the games?" Leah asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yes."

Lean frowned, "That's stupid."

"Why is it stupid?" Asked Damon, getting slightly annoyed, "And your courtesy wasn't for the Capitol sponsors? You and I both know they love that fancy crap."

"It wasn't for them!" Leah shouted, and crossed her arms.

Damon raised an eyebrow, "Than who was it for?"

Leah sighed, and uncrossed her arms, "It was for my sister, Katrina."

Damon saw the pain on her face, and decided to let it go.

"It was Feast day." Leah muttered.

In this moment, Damon saw Caroline sitting beside him, and realized that Leah was the embodiment of his little sister. He knew that he could never see Leah as just another tribute, that he would always see his sisters face smiling back at him. He couldn't just turn a blind eye to her dying in the arena. He hated it, but he felt responsible for her, despite himself. He cursed under his breath, that his stupid heart would drive him to do something so idiotic.

"Come one. Feast day isn't over." He grumbled, and walked back into the train. As she smiled and followed him, he absolutely knew that this girl could end up being the death of him if he isn't careful. But he couldn't help but see Caroline enjoying Feast Day with him.

And he would have to see Caroline in the Arena.

**Train Ride out of District 8:**

Everything was building up, everything in his life was a current pushing Gad Denali towards the next few days. He didn't know he was supposed to kill the District 5 Female tribute until only a few hours ago, yet he felt like it was his destiny from the moment he was born. He wondered if some small part of this girl new that her life was leading up to this moment. He had watched the tape of her Reaping several times over in the back of the train. She seemed scared, and weak. She didn't remind him anything of the girl that had killed Yendall last year. But from the moment he was born, and the moment she was born, life had been pushing them towards each other without either of them knowing it. Either he would kill her, or she would kill him. That was the bottom line, and Gad felt oddly comfortable knowing his options. He severely doubted he could ever win the games, he just wasn't strong enough to kill Careers on his own. He had a mission that he knew he could accomplish without trial. All he needed to do now was gain her trust, and the moment she fully trusted him, he would gut her like Yendall was gutted.

He heard a knock at the door, a slight hesitant tapping.

"Come in." He said, and waited to see who would bother him.

It was Juliette Morgan, his District Partner. He had only talked to her once after boarding the train, and had slipped away to his quarters to study this Whitley Hedge from District 5. Juliette stepped into his room, and he had to admit that he found her quite beautiful. Naturally, one might describe Juliette as awkward, or tom boyish. But he found her quite confidence and demeanor beautiful. This was problematic for him, because he felt it would distract from his mission. But at the same time, he did not ask her to leave.

She walked into the room and looked around, it was a basic quarters for a Capitol train. Just a small bed with a lamp beside it and a detachable desk in which Gad was sitting and reviewing District 5's reaping. Juliette gave him a small smile and sat down on the bed. Gad turned away from his desk to face her, yet ironically had nothing to say.

"District 5, huh?" She said, pointing to the tablet that Gad was holding.

"What?" Asked Gad, then remembered the tablet, "Oh, right. Yeah, I'm just looking at some of the other tributes."

For some reason, he was almost afraid she would figure out his mission. He was ashamed of it almost, and he definitely did not want her to know. She smiled and nodded,

"That's probably a good idea. Honestly, I've just been in shock this whole time." She said, averting her eyes.

Gad nodded, neither of them were truly emotional during the Reaping, and he hadn't once heard her crying across the hall. They certainly faired better than most tributes in that aspect.

"You're Gad, right?" She asked.

Gad nodded, slipping the tablet into the desk drawer.

"Juliette." Juliette smiled, and held out her hand.

Gad gave a half hearted smile, keeping his head low, "I know. We talked earlier."

Juliette smiled, "I know, I don't know why I just introduced myself again. Stupid, I'm sorry."

Gad shrugged, constantly keeping his head low, "It's fine."

He was completely uncomfortable around her, and he had no idea what to say. He hadn't felt this unsettled in a long time, but it wasn't inherently bad, or at least he didn't think it was.

"Are you scared?" She asked, staring him down.

Gad shrugged, "Not really. I'm not afraid of dying, if that's what you mean."

It was an honest enough answer, he wasn't afraid of dying. He had his fears, ones that kept him up every night. But death by the hands of another tribute was not among them.

Juliette nodded, "I'm scared…But not about dying. Everyone dies eventually, that's just nature. "

"So what are you scared of." Asked Gad, finally lifting his head up.

Juliette paused for a moment, "People thinking I'm weak. Not respecting me. I can't stand the idea of dying in the mud, shivering with fear before the whole worlds eyes."

"You won't." Spoke Gad softly.

Juliette stared out the window, "I hope not. I mean, I feel strong, but who knows what will happen in the moment, we could be anybody. Heroes, villains, winners... Losers." Her voice cut off at the last part, and she closed her eyes.

"Who knows how the Games will change us! I like to think that I'm strong, that I wouldn't run but I just don't know! I've never killed anyone, have you?"

"No…"

"Exactly! I'm sure we'd like to think that we could do it, in the moment. I know I could! Well, actually that's the problem is that I have no earthly idea. Could you do it? Of course you could, look at you, your handsome and strong and-"

"And you're rambling." Said Gad with a half smile.

Juliette stopped and smiled, "Sorry. I was just getting worked up. Won't happen again, I promise."

Gad shrugged and gave her a small smile, unsure of how he should respond.

"Well," Spoke Juliette, getting up from the bed, "I'm off. I'll see you in the Capitol."

With that, she had left the room and Gad was even more perplexed by her than he had been when she entered in the first place.

He quickly turned back to his desk and grabbed the Capitol made tablet and begin reviewing the District 5 Reaping again. He had to completely put away thoughts of Juliette and whatever involuntary feelings he had for her because despite everything he still had a mission.

Kill the girl from District 5.

**Train Ride out of District 9**

He dreamed about Rice. He dreamed they were married and had children, living in a little house outside town. He could see the littlest child being just as rambunctious as he was, running across the wooden floor with a toy airplane in his hand. Silo laughed, and chased him around the kitchen floor, weaving between different pots and pans that hung from the kitchen like a myriad of kitchen constellations. They boy laughed and skirted outside the house, and Silo heard Rice's voice coming to greet him. His heart leapt at seeing her, and he craned his neck to catch her coming around the corner of the kitchen. She came in, holding the child and smiling wide. She was older, by about ten years but her beauty remained. There were distinct lines around her mouth from laughing, and her eyes were clear and joyful. She set their son down and walked up to Silo and kissed him on the cheek,

"Good morning Barley."

Silo jumped back in horror, what did she call him? He turned to see the pots hanging from the ceiling, and saw the reflection of Barley Fritton. The pots and pans were no longer like stars hanging in his perfect kitchen, but they had become a thousand mirrors reflecting the life that Barley had stolen from him.

He sat up, covered in sweat. The room around him was dark and unfamiliar. He was lying in a bed, and the floor was unsteady.

Rice.

The Reaping,

Being knocked unconscious.

He was on the train, he finally surmised. But he had no idea whether he was an hour away from the Capitol or seconds away. He forced himself out of bed and walked over to the mirror by the nightstand. There was a large lump near the back of his head where the Peace Keepers rifle had barreled into him. There was so much troubling him that the bump felt completely trivial. Rice had left him for Barley Fritton, and just seconds later he was chosen to fight in the 67th Annual Hunger Games.

"I really wish I could talk to you mom." He said quietly.

He decided that for now it was best to make his way out of his room and explore the train and try and get a location on where he might be. As he opened the door he heard voices talking quite loudly. As he got closer he could make out the conversation.

"….ood luck trying to take them on by yourself. Careers stick together in packs, like dogs. Like dirty disgusting dogs, you hear me? Wait them out, they are impatient. Patience is the key to winning all of this. Did you get that?"

"Y-yes. Although I will point out that you listed a lot of different things as THE key to winning. Which one is most important?"

"Water, obviously. Water is more important than any sword or bow. However, remember to know where your water is, but never camp or stay to long by water. Everyone is looking for it and they WILL find you. Hold on, I think the boy is finally awake."

Silo assumed they meant him, and he crept out from the hallway to see them. His District partner, Lee Ann Bell sat with a man he didn't recognize. He was a younger man, with a crop of red hair a thinly groomed mustache.

"Welcome to our little survival party? Would you like a cup of tea? Or perhaps a Strawberry Scone is more to your taste? Well, what is it?"

"What's a scone?" Asked Silo.

The man laughed, "Well, a scone it is!"

He tossed the scone at Silo, and he devoured it within seconds.

"My name is Brennan, and I am your mentor." Said the strange man with a smile.

Silo sat down beside Lee, and scarfed down another scone.

"Hungry, eh? Good. At least you two aren't the like the ones that cry in the back! Give up on life, and it will give up on you. That is what I always say." Chimed Brennan.

"There was no point." Muttered Lee.

Silo could tell she was upset, but his mouth was too full to attempt to comfort her in anyway.

"Do you want to slow down Silo? I have very important things to say." Chuckled Brennan.

"My mouth is full, not my ears." Silo pointed out, with a mouth full of food.

Lee glared at him, "This is our mentor. Show some respect."

Silo dropped his scone, "I didn't meant to offend or anything." He said with his mouth still very full of fresh scone.

Brennan put his hands up, "No offense taken. Just understand that this is very serious. You two are criminally outmatched."

"In both brains," He said looking at Silo, "And brawn." He finished staring at Lee.

"But," Continued Brennan, "You have one advantage."

"And what is that?" Asked Lee, apparently annoyed his hinting she was weak.

"You have me!" Smiled Brennan.

"I'm confused." Blurted Silo.

"Of course you are, you poor thing. Let me explain: I am a little bit of a favorite with the sponsors. I could get anyone a sponsorship, even you two, believe it or not." Exclaimed Brennan.

"Are sponsorships all that important?" Asked Lee.

"Why of course! They are KEY to winning the Games! That's how I won after all!" Shouted Brennan.

For the next few hours, their talks continued like this, but Silos mind often drifted during the conversations. He thought about Rice, and he thought about his dear old brother, and lastly he thought about his mother. He wondered if wherever she was if she could see him, or if she was worried. Whenever people called him stupid, or something else, she was always the one to tell him he was smart and worthwhile.

More than the pain of losing Rice, he missed his mother the most. He hoped that if she could see him, that she would at least look away during the Games.

He didn't want her to see what he feared would be the result.

End of Chapter 15

_(Reviews are awesome and motivate me to write more! They really do! )_


	16. Train Rides Pt 4: We Need to be Strong

**(**_Finally! Time to move on from the train rides! It will be a little while before my next update, because over the next couple of weeks I have finals and term papers do. But I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and maybe I get some new readers!)_

**Train Ride out of District 10**

T.J hadn't spent a single moment in the Train without a Peace Keeper watching him. Sitting across from him, Lorena sat, completely devoid of emotion. She had a Peacekeepers arm on her shoulder, gripping it tightly.

"We aren't dangerous." She said, turning to the Peacekeeper.

He said nothing.

"I'm telling you, we had nothing to do with that!" She said, trying to stand up. The Peacekeeper pulled her back down and sat her firmly in the chair.

"It's not worth it. Save your strength for the games." T.J muttered.

Lorena glared at him, "Why was that man calling your name anyway?"

T.J glared right back, "I don't know. I guess he must have heard my name when it was announced. I'm sure I heard him shout your name too."

"He didn't" Lorena responded indignantly.

T.J's father had just hours ago attacked the Peacekeepers trying to keep T.J from the reaping. But he just sat back and watched as his father was beaten and shot by the very same peacekeeper holding onto Lorena's shoulder. Sure, T.J felt guilt, but not overwhelming guilt. His fathers actions would have probably would have gotten them both killed, and most likely Lorena would have been thrown in as well. It was rash and it was stupid, and he paid for it. T.J was very logical in that way, he never made rash decisions. He looked at Lorena, and wondered if he could truly say the same for her. He remembered hearing children gossip about her, about how she had killed that man that tried to take her innocence away. She beat him to death with a brick when she was quite a few years younger. Her ability to make smart, in-the-moment, decisions was in question. But her inner strength and ability to kill weren't. He could use this girl to his advantage.

"Have you been studying the games?" He asked.

"As much as anyone." Lorena replied.

"Then you know it's smart for us to work together."

"That's probably true."

"So we need a plan, and soon." Responded T.J, looking up at the Peacekeeper.

"Alright, that's enough gentlemen." Yelled a voice from the back of the train car.

The Peacekeepers removed their hands from the tributes and left the train car abruptly. Outstepped the man whose voice they had just heard. He was an older, well groomed man wearing a fine suit and waist coat. He had an air of dignity about him and he wore it like a coat.

"My name is Yomm, and I am your mentor." He said with a bow.

Lorena said nothing and glared at him.

"Do you have advice for us, Yomm?" Asked T.J.

Yomm sat down beside them, "Yes, of course. Granted, first we must ascertain who YOU are before I can advise you on how to survive."

"I'm T.J and this is-"

"No, no, no." Interrupted Yomm, "I don't mean your names, I have those. I mean who you ARE."

"I'm sorry if I misunderstand, but what is the relevance of our personalities to games?" Asked T.J.

"First off, you two had it right. It is imperative for you to stick together, at least early on. Some mentors discourage this, but I do not. Think of yourself as one person, with two different distinct personalities. Take the good from each of you and we have a half decent tribute for the sponsors to drool over."

He turned to Lorena, "Let's start with you, shall we? I can already tell you are stubborn, unlikeable and generally poor company around people you don't respect. Those are the bad qualities, toss them out and T.J here can make up for them. However, you are strong, independent and despite yourself I can tell you are quite caring for people that need it. Keep those."

Lorena nodded.

"And me?" Asked T.J.

"Your fathers little stunt won't go unnoticed, it will be brought up during the interviews. For the sake reciprocity, you are everything Lorena is not. You are likeable, willing to compromise and loyal to the bone for the Capitol. So loyal in fact, you stood by while your father defied them. You chose the capitol OVER your father."

"That was your father?" Asked Lorena, with a look of disgust in her eye.

"Technically." Muttered T.J.

"Another thing, Lorena represents the strength in your team. She is strong as you are weak, and you need her. Play these personality traits in the interviews. It will create a chemistry between the two of you that will interest the sponsors."

"Wait a second, you aren't really implying that Lorena is stronger than me, are you?" Asked T.J, standing up.

"Yes, that is exactly what I am implying." Responded Yomm, staring him down.

"It's just for the cameras." Muttered T.J as he sat down.

"See? That's the spirit! The Capitol sheep love stories like this, and as much as they want a good show, they want a good story. You two can provide a good story, if you play your characters right." Yomm said, pulling out a cigar from his shirt pocket.

"I'm not sure I can get these Capitol frauds to like me." Muttered Lorena.

"I'm not sure you can either." Scoffed T.J.

"Just play your characters and you will be fine…As far as the sponsors go anyway." Said Yomm, lighting his cigar.

"But-" Started Lorena.

Yomm held up his finger, shutting her up.

"Play your characters." He said, blowing a smoke ring.

Lorena crossed her arms, and walked out the train car.

T.J thought for a moment about following, but he somehow knew that he and Lorena weren't going to be able to get along. All they would have to do is play their characters, and make believe they were in this together.

"It's all for the cameras." He whispered.

**Train Ride out of District 11**

Jossa had been staring at him ever since they boarded the train, and his red lipstick seemed to stink of blood. Broose had scooted farther and farther away from the frightening District 11 escort every time he turned away. To make the situation even more tense and uncomfortable, the little girl Rose had been crying during the whole train ride. Their District mentor, Akilia, was comforting her as best she could. Akilia had won a few years back, and was only a couple of years older than Broose. She had beautiful long black hair and dark skin, not unlike most in District 11. She was holding Rose in her arms and whispering to her, while occasionally sending Broose a dirty look. He thought she might want him to come over and comfort Rose as well, but he hadn't. So here he was, stuck between the possibly homicidal Jossa, and the wails of a 12 year old child.

He barely had time to register how drastically his life had changed in the last hour, and how it would never go back to the way it was. Even if he managed to win the games, he would have a difficult time returning to his normal life. Granted, it would make things inexplicably easier as far was women were concerned, but he had to admit he liked the chase. Even when he got shot down, it motivated him to get back up and try again. But he could have any woman he wanted if he could just manage to win. But he didn't feel confident in his strengths or wit, so he tried not to worry about the problems of winning, and focus on the problems of now. He turned over to see Jossa, who had been watching him. Jossa smiled, and licked his lips.

"That's enough of that." Mumbled Broose, who shot out of his seat like a rocket and made his way to the back of the train where Akilia and Rose sat.

Rose was wiping away tears on her face, and she turned to see Broose.

"Are you okay?" She asked with a cracked voice.

"Erhm, yes, I'm fine. Are you?" Asked Broose, feeling uncomfortable.

"She'll be fine. Won't you Rose?" Asked Akilia.

Rose nodded, wiping away tears.

"Are you ready to talk about the Games?" Asked Broose, looking at Akilia.

Akilia looked down at Rose, who nodded.

"Alright, sit down Broose." Akilia spoke, sighing.

As Broose sat down, Akilia rubbed her forehead.

"The Games aren't just what they show on TV. They cut things, and they dramatize the whole event. They try and show honor in the victories and cowardice in the defeats. But truthfully, sometimes it's the other way around." Akilia said.

"What," Interrupted Broose, "About your victory?"

Akilia thought for a second, "I won, because I listened to my mentor. Now, your are going to listen to me. He gave me the best advice I could ever get and it's what saved my life."

"What was it?" Asked Rose quietly.

"Run away from the Cornucopia, it's riddled with Careers and you will be killed. But Careers on high on their kills, and will often leave valuables behind. If you luck out, you might just get a couple of dimwit Careers like I had."

"But there are smart careers." Noted Broose.

"True," Started Akilia, "Let's hope you don't have any, and leave it at that."

"Wait a second." Said Broose, finally realizing something.

"What is it?" Mused Akilia.

"Didn't I ask you out a couple of years ago?" Said Broose with a smile.

Rose giggled and Akilia scoffed, "Well lets see. You're name is Broose right? Let me search my memories for something like that, hmmmmm not seeing it. Wait! There it is! That's right, it was three years ago, you were 15 and I was 18 and I totally shot you down because you were a weird little boy with a pompadour!"

Rose burst out laughing and Broose crossed his arms, "You don't have to be so harsh."

Akilia started laughing as well, "Your hair was just ridiculous, but you were so sure of yourself! I was 18! Did you really think that you stood a chance?!"

Rose and Akilia were in hysterics, and Broose turned to see Jossa with a hand to his mouth, holding back a sadistic giggle.

"I know when I've been insulted, good night ladies!" Said Broose, standing up.

"Wait, Broose, We're just teasing you. Honestly, we could all use a laugh now and then." Chuckled Akilia.

Broose scoffed.

"I didn't mean it, really." Said Akilia with a smile, "You were a cute little kid, so sure of yourself."

"I think you misspoke. Handsome is the word you were looking for." Broose said indignantly.

Akilia laughed, "Fine then. A very handsome young man that was in way over his head, is that fine with you?"

Broose stared over at Jossa, who had stifled his laugh and was eyeing Broose once more. Seeking to get out of his line of sight, he sat back down.

"Fair enough. Besides, how I was supposed to know you would be called during the Reaping anyhow." He said with smirk.

Akilia stopped smiling, "It caught me by surprise."

The three of them got really quite for a good minute, before Rose spoke up.

"That was so funny, Broose. Turned down by your own mentor!" She said, smiling wide.

"It sure was. Wasn't it Broose." Said Akilia, eyeing Broose.

Broose glared at her, "Apparently."

Akilia winked at him, and turned back to Rose, "Did you know we have desserts on this Train? Loads and loads of them!"

"Did you say desserts?" Chimed Broose, looking around the train.

"Jossa, would you kindly bring the dessert tray for these poor souls?" Shouted Akilia.

Jossa shrugged, and left the train car in search of the desserts.

Broose noticed Rose and Akilia were whispering about something, and giggling to themselves. No doubt about him, he surmised. He didn't know what to make of Akilia, he hadn't really expected his mentor to be so personal. He was expecting a rough, no nonsense type mentor. Not that he didn't like Akilia, he honestly had no idea what to think of her. All he could really think of was the dessert tray that was on the way.

At least she was good at distracting them from their fear, and that was worth something.

**Train Ride out of District 12. **

The boy they shot had bleed furiously. The doctors worked on trying to get the bullet out before he boarded the train, but he woke up during the process and his thrashing made it all the worse. But eventually they got it out and threw him into the train. The District 12 mentor, Haymitch had put him on his shoulder and carried him to the back bed to rest. He told Alaska that Rylan might not be able to use his arm for a while, that he had strained or cut the nerve endings in his shoulder during his awakening. Alaska noticed as they were leaving the dead body of the Peacekeeper that had shot him lying on the road. When Alaska asked why he was dead, Haymitch said that it was idiotic to shoot Rylan, and the other Peacekeepers knew that. He said it must have been the Peacekeepers first reaping, and didn't know District 12 often had runners. They were easy to catch and more times than not would turn themselves in at the sound of gunfire alone. But they rode on in silence for awhile while Haymitch helped himself to the alcohol on the train. He kept muttering about how it wasn't fair that Rylan got shot, that the poor bastard didn't stand a chance now. He used other curses and swears every now and then before passing out on the couch. Alaska didn't have time to worry about him, or Rylan for that matter. All she could think about was her little sister, Marina. She would be all alone now, and that thought made her want to break down and cry. But she knew that she would have to be strong, for Marina. She was terrified, of course. But she had never been selfish, and she would always put Marina before herself. Somehow, someway she would have to win the Games. She just wished she had a coherent mentor and a District Partner with two working arms.

"H-hello? Hello?" Shouted a voice from the hallway. Suddenly, Rylan came staggering out of his room, holding his arm by his side.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" Shouted Effie, the District 12 escort, as she scuffled down the hallway towards him.

She helped him across the seats, and sat him down by Alaska.

Rylan just sat staring at his arm, and the gauze around his shoulder.

Effie had left a moment ago, only to return with a medical kit.

"Hold your arm up, dear." She said.

She pulled out a Capitol official sling, and wrapped it around Rylans shoulder, propping his arm up so it didn't hang by his side.

"There you go." She said with a smile.

"Whose that?" Asked Rylan, motioning to a passed out Haymitch.

"That would be our mentor." Said Alaska with a sigh.

Rylan nodded, as if not surprised that their situation could be that bad.

"How long was I out?" Asked Rylan.

"A few hours. I think we're close to the Capitol." Said Alaska.

"More than a little close! Come here children!" Shouted Effie, who was staring out the window.

Alaska looked out the window, and saw the Capitol for the first time. It was incredible, but everything about it was so drastically different than District 12. All around them was the pinnacle of technology and wealth, and the more that Alaska saw the more the more she grew to resent it. Everyone's clothes were lined with gold, and wealth was just exuding from the pores in their skin. It wasn't fair that these people could be so rich while everyone else was starving.

"Magnificent isn't it?" Asked Effie, in awe of her home.

"Overwhelming." Muttered Rylan, who apparently felt the way Alaska did.

"Well, we have about ten minutes before we arrive at our destination, and let me take this time to go over a few things." Effie said, sitting down at a table.

"I am aware you are from District 12, so your behavior is excusable for now. But things are different here, we do not eat with our bare hands or walk around without our clothes on for no apparent reason."

"Neither do we." Said Alaska, offended.

"Well, fantastic! But if you want to make an impression on the sponsors, you must learn to abandon your old ways and habits." Said Effie sternly.

"Now, when we arrive, I want you two to wave as we pass the crowds that have gathered. Frankly, we have the unequivocal bad luck of arriving right after District 4, they are quite popular around here. The crowd won't be as excited, but that doesn't mean you wont have your fans." Effie said, studying the window.

"Did you say 'fans'?" Asked Rylan.

Effie smiled, "Why of course! Oh! Here they are children! Come to the window!"

Rylan and Alaska made their way to the window, and saw the screaming crowds of Capitol citizens. Some where holding District 12 signs, and cheering as they waved. It was exhilarating, but at the same time she felt disgusted at the people before her. They would cheer for her now, yet move on within minutes after she died. But she didn't plan on dying at all, she suddenly had a burst of energy, and confidence, and she started to think she could actually win this. She was feeding off the energy of the crowd, and she had to admit it felt good. She looked over at Rylan, but noticed he had stepped away from the window and sat down in one of the chairs. He was holding his arm, obviously still in pain. She knew that Rylan would die in the games, but oddly enough, she didn't feel sympathy for him. She didn't have time to worry about anyone.

Suddenly the train stopped, and the doors opened, the noise of the crowd was tremendous. She knew that once she stepped out that door, the real Games would begin.

But she was ready.

**End of Chapter 16, and the Train Rides.**

(_Reviews are the best thing ever! They make it was easier to write, and more fun!)_


	17. Welcome to the Capitol

_(Sorry for the short chapter, but I wanted to get some content published because it had been awhile since my last chapter. So, here is a short filler chapter. _

_P.S. Also, I will not actually be covering the Chariot Rides after all.)_

They had been at the Capitol for a day and Emerald already knew the he loved it here. Everyone he met asked for his autograph, or a picture with him. It was as if they all knew he was going to win already. But he wasn't really interested in them, he had the other tributes in mind. He had removed himself from his district partner and mentor, in hopes of catching a glance at the other tributes as they arrived off of the trains. The reaping tapes weren't enough for him, he needed more. He wanted to see them in person, see how they reacted to the Capitol. Some of them reacted how he expected, like the two from District 11. The tall, brutish looking one and the little girl seemed terrified by everything around them.

_Just wait till we're in the Games. _He thought to himself.

But there were some unpredictable tributes, the girl from 12 was impressive, given her district and age. District 5 brought in some very strong tributes which seemed strange to Emerald, because he never thought of them as a strong District. The boy from 5 seemed to be threatening, and Emerald knew he could be trouble down the road. But his immediate concern was District 4 and their compatibility with him and the other Careers. To him, they seemed weak and young. The boy seemed strong enough but he wore thick glasses, which Emerald knew would be a hefty problem. The girl was a different story, she was strong and intelligent from what he gathered, but there was something about her that didn't sit right with him. Often Careers would bring District 4 into their alliance, but he was completely unsure about these two. That's why he had decided to get the other Careers together and meet him outside their hotel. He had met the tributes from District 2, and he was fine with the candidates for the most part. Felix Kingsley seemed impressive enough, but he wished the girl was a little older.

"Hello again Emerald." Spoke a voice behind him.

He turned around to see Felix Kingsley and his District Partner, Alexandra Mason. Behind them stood Rebekah Michaels, his own district partner.

"Hello all." He said with a coy smile, "Enjoying yourselves?"

"Why did you bring us here?" Asked an impatient Alexandra.

"I was wondering the same thing myself." Mused Felix.

Emerald kept his chilling smile, "Patience, people. Patience. What do you see over there?"

Across from them sat the member s of District 4, who were sitting on the stair case leading into the hotel talking to each other.

"What's so special about them?" Asked Alexandra.

"You don't think they're good enough for us?" Asked Rebekah, eyeing Emerald.

Emerald shrugged, "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure yet. What do you think, Felix?"

Felix seemed taken back for a second that Emerald would ask his advice. Since they had arrived, Emerald had essentially taken over the group of Careers as their leader, after all he had even called this meeting. But Emerald was always scheming, he actually didn't want to be seen as the leader at all. He didn't like the idea of being usurped by anyone. His strategy would be to play it slow, and quiet. If he could go under the radar for awhile, it would make killing Felix much easier. In the end, this is what it was all about. Felix was the only person in the games who Emerald felt uncomfortable in an one on one fight. His entire strategy changed when he first met Felix, and he had decided it's much easier to stab him in the back, then fight him fairly. If Felix would just take the bait….  
"I think we need. But only in an immediate basis. As soon as they become a liability, we kill them. Make them think they are careers for a little while." Decided Felix.

Emerald smiled, Felix had taken the bait after all. Pretty soon they would all be taking orders from Felix and they would easily forget about how dangerous Emerald could actually be.

"You're absolutely right, Felix! Use them in the beginning, and make them feel safe by being part of the group. Good choice." Smiled Emerald, trying to be subservient.

"…Right." Muttered Felix, seemingly confused.

"But when do we decide they've outlived their usefulness?" Asked Rebekah, apparently oblivious to Emeralds plan.

"I'll let you know." Said Felix.

Everyone nodded, seeming to accept the spontaneous shift in leadership. Emerald was actually quite surprised they were willing to accept a leader at all. Most Careers saw themselves as the leader in any given group. But these people were almost like sheep, so willing to accept the situation around them. Emerald had them all pegged in his mind, Felix would be to drunk on power to worry about him. Rebekah was his district partner, and if he guessed right, she was just as smitten with him as every other girl in his district. But Alexandra was harder to read, she didn't seem like a normal career. She also seemed annoyed with the lot of them, and possibly suspicious. In his mind he knew that she would have to die first, that was blatantly obvious. Perhaps before even killing the fools in District 4. But his plan for Felix was much more lengthy. He needed Felix for a while, and when some of the tougher competition was taken out, he would kill him and reclaim leadership of the group. They would be so shocked that little old Emerald, who had followed every one of Felix's idiotic orders barked at him, would betray him so early and claim leadership. They would be to scared to act against him at that point.

He couldn't help but smile at the thought of his plan unfolding.

Suddenly they turned up to see a large television screen on the side of their hotel, showing the image of the game maker.

"_Tributes are to return to their quarters immediately. If you are in contact with a tribute, advise them to return here or face serious repercussions."_

"You heard the man. Get to your rooms. We'll meet with District 4 tonight after the chariot rides." Noted Felix, eyeing District 4 as they made their way to the front door.

"I'll let them know." Noted Rebekah, starting to walk that direction.

As the group of careers started to make their way back to the hotel, Felix and Emerald exchanged another glance, but this one made Emerald feel slightly unsettled. Maybe it was just a look, a totally insignificant, meaningless look. But it could be more, it could be that Felix could actually know what Emerald is planning, that he could hear Emeralds devious thoughts. But the glance was short lasted, because Felix turned is back to Emerald and entered the hotel. Emerald smiled again, because he knew that the glance must have been meaningless.

After all, if he knew, he would never turn his back to Emerald again.

End of Chapter 17

(Reviews are awesome, and more chapters are coming.)


	18. Training Pt 1: Let's Change the Games

(Sorry it's been awhile, but I just started a new job and I've been exhausted. Anyway, here it is, part 1 of the Training! Not to far off from the Games themselves)

Chapter 18

With each stroke, the wooden dummy bounced backwards with a force that surprised everyone. They knew Orion was strong, but they feared he might actually tear the sparring dummy right out of its holding place. They had been training for a couple of hours now, and everyone had split off into their own groups almost instinctively. For the most part, him and his District partner Whitley had stayed together. He didn't trust anyone here, but he didn't mind having her company. She didn't say much, and didn't seem very threatening. She had been following him around the training arena for a few hours now, occasionally attempting to try out one of the weapons. She seemed nervous, if anything. At first he thought she might have been scared, but being nervous is entirely different than being scared. Hell, he was nervous too. She just happened to be wearing it on her sleeve whereas he felt inclined to keep it hidden. He had also been trying to pay attention to the other careers, but the training room was a frenzy of confusion and chaos. All around him were spinning cameras, and flashing lights. Above them all sat television broadcasters pointing and making commentary on their every move. The training felt trivial in it's own way, since sponsors never paid any attention to it. But it was an interesting way to keep marks on other tributes, see what they bring to the table. He set down his sword for a moment to check up on the boy from 8 who had been staring at them for the last several minutes. But right as he turned around, he noticed all the cameras sweeping his direction, and the commenters begin to get silent. It took Orion only a moment to realize the careers were standing behind him. All cameras and lights were on this conversation, no one wanted to miss a word. Orion poked Whitley on the back, so she would know they were here. He turned around to see a mass of them. There was Emerald, his district partner Rebekah, and there was the massive Felix who had taken over for them, and then the boy from 4 who had apparently joined in with them, he was called Mason.

" I saw you training. Can't help but be impressed." Noted Felix.

"I saw you too. Can't say that I was." Replied Orion with a cold smile.

Felix chuckled, and the rest got silent.

"I'd watch what I'd say if I were you." Barked Mason, peering behind his glasses.

"I'm not to afraid of a blind bat." Snapped Whitley.

Orion turned around and gave her surprised smile, and she shrugged.

Mason went to jump at her and Orion grabbed him by the collar and threw him to the side. A peace keeper ran up to them,

"Keep it calm!" He barked, pushing the two groups away from each other.

"You heard the man. Calm yourself." Smiled Emerald.

"There's no calming apes like this." Said Felix, agreeing.

"You better watch your ass Orion!" Shouted Mason, jumping up from the floor.

"Shut up Mason." Muttered Rebekah, annoyed at how things had gone.

Orion laughed, despite himself.

"This is funny?" Asked Felix, inching forward.

"I guess I just find it funny what people define as careers these days. Don't bring to much shame home, we couldn't have that now could we?" Replied Orion, taking his challenge.

"I want you to remember something Orion." Said Felix, reaching for the table.

He pulled out a knife, and held it up.

"Every time you close your eyes from now until the moment you die, I want you to know that I'm going to kill you. Never feel safe, never feel confident because I'm better than you. I'm stronger, I'm smarter and I'm not afraid of your weak words. The games are brutal, Orion, but not as brutal as me. So take a mental picture of me holding this knife, because it will be the last thing you pathetic excuse for a tribute will ever see."

The room got silent, and Felix and Orion just stared each other down. Orion feared that Felix might actually reach out with that knife of his, but he didn't want to break. He didn't want to look weak. But before anything could happen, he noticed Emerald starting to laugh. Everyone turned around to look at him.

"Oh, you kids are going to be fun!" He shouted with a smile, and turned around and walked the other way. He was followed by Mason and Rebekah, and Felix set the knife down and followed shortly behind them. As they left, and the cameras pulled away and lights faded, Orion let out his breath he had been holding in. He turned around to see Whitley, and she was just as shaken as he was. It was clear they were both talking bigger than they felt, and that any conversation with careers was enough to shake someone from District 5.

"You okay?" He asked.

Whitley shrugged, "I- Yeah… Yeah, I'm fine. Are you okay?"

Orion nodded, although Felix's words seemed to stick with him. Orion was confident in his own abilities, but he wished he hadn't openly challenged the leader of the Careers. He had made himself a target for them, and he knew that he had dragged Whitley into this as well. They had completely isolated themselves, and become priority number one for the careers.

"You realize what just happened right?" Asked Whitley, apparently sharing his fears.

"I do." He said, trying to come up with a plan to get them out of this.

Suddenly it hit him, seeing the careers dominate the game year after year inspired him to have an idea that would change the game completely. They didn't have to fear the careers at all, if they would just stick together near the beginning, they would have strength of numbers.

"So what's plan?" Asked a nervous Whitley.

"We tip things in our favor. Let's go make some allies." Smiled Orion.

Juliette had noticed the cameras shifting across the room, but other than that paid very little attention to what happened. She had been training with Gad for awhile, and noticed that he had been staring at the District 5 girl for hours. Juliette was bothered by this, and this fact concerned her. She and Gad had surprisingly become quite close during the last few days leading up to the Chariot Rides. They would stay up late every night going over strategy for the games and talking about what the Chariot Rides would be like. Sometimes, they would be sitting on the balcony over the capitol streets, and she would see him sitting across from her. He had been there the whole time, but she would see him differently. He would smile and her and ask her what was the matter, and she would say nothing was the matter while her face turned red. But she would desperately fight it, because if she were to ever have feelings, she knew it would end in heartbreak. Because there can only be one winner, and as much as she may care for Gad, she could never let him know, or even let herself admit it. Because it would be devastating for both of them. But despite all this, she was still feeling quite jealous of how much Gad seemed to be obsessing with this girl. But once again, she decided to keep it cool, because Gad could never know of her developing feelings for him.

"That was awesome!" Shouted a voice from behind her.

"How the hell did I do that-I mean absolutely, it's just one of my many skills." Replied another.

She turned around to see two other tributes talking to each other. She remembered their names to be Broose and the other was called Silo. Apparently, the large one called Broose had thrown a spear and stuck it into the target nearly 20 yards away.

"Seriously, where di d you learn to do that?" Asked Silo, still very impressed.

"Well, some people are just naturals." Smiled Broose, putting his hands behind his head.

Suddenly, his eye caught Juliette and he smiled at her ,

"Did you see that?" He asked.

"Oh yes." She said, forcing a smile.

"She's totally into me, follow my lead." Whispered Broose, unaware Juliette could here him.

Silo nodded, and they both walked over to Juliette.

Juliette rolled her eyes, and thought about just ending this right away. But out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gad was watching her. She knew it was immature, but she had the strongest instinct to try and make him jealous.

"That was pretty impressive." She said, smiling at Broose.

"Wait. What?" Asked Broose, seemingly surprised she hadn't walked away.

"Oh my god man, it's working! Keep going, your doing great!" Whispered Silo loudly.

"Right, um, well you know I learned from the best: me!" Winked Broose.

Ignoring the fact that what he said made no sense, she continued to play along.

"Wow. You're probably going to get like a 9, or a 10 maybe even from the sponsors." She said.

"Of course." Responded Broose, obviously loving the attention.

"What's your name?" Asked Juliette.

"Broose, and this excuse for a tribute is Silo." Joked Broose, punching Silo on the shoulder.

"Ow." Mumbled Silo.

"Yeah, we're actually a pretty good team though." Said Broose with a confident nod.

"Yeah! We totally have been dominating this gym!" Spoke a less confident Silo.

Juliette thought back to how the instructors had to explain how to use several of the weapons, and almost laughed at Silo's comment.

"Totally." She said with a smile.

"You know," Started Broose, "We could always use a third."

Juliette turned to see Gad staring at her, and she noticed that he was standing near a couple of careers. She remembered how Gad had suggested to her not to mix with any of the weaker tributes, that their only ticket was to ally with Careers in the beginning. This was of course something she fundamentally agreed with, she hated the idea of being thought of as weak. But at the same time, she knew how cruel the careers could be, and that was something she never could be. But as idiotic as the two men standing across from her were, she sensed that deep down they were kind boys thrown into an impossible situation. After the last few days, and her feelings toward Gad, she felt a change in her. So she said something that surprised everyone,  
"I would love that."

Broose and Silo stood in shock for a moment.

"She said yes." Whispered Silo.

"I know she did, I'm just waiting to see if she's playing a joke so shut up." Whispered Broose.

As the two of them pondered, she turned back to look at Gad. He smiled at her and waved, but she could tell he was curious as to why she was talking with these guys. But as he smiled at her, her heart sank. She was afraid of how she felt about him.

It was toward the end of the day that Damon began to get bored. He had done his whole tour around the gym, and talked to tributes here and there. He had avoided Careers as best he could, despite the fact that one of them mentioned him possibly joining them. It was good to know they thought he was strong, but he told them to piss off. The boy he told, Emerald was his name if he remembered right, just nodded and said, "See you in the games." But Damon wasn't too worried about it, because he was confident in his own abilities. He was sure that Emerald was going to be a problem later in the games, but for now he wouldn't focus on it. But he had settled in with two other tributes. There was Lorena and her district partner T.J. He liked Lorena because she was sour as hell, but at least she was real. They got along fine for the most part because they both were the no nonsense types. He liked T.J because he wasn't as cocky as the rest, and generally didn't have much to say. But they had decided early on to stick together during the early parts of the game. But after that they had no plans.

"I say if it's just the three of us left, we just go at it." Submitted Lorena, playing with a knife she had borrowed.

"We don't want any kind of rules? Just fight to the death?" Asked T.J

"Assuming it's the three of us in the end, which is honestly unlikely in the first place, let's just cross that mountain when we get to it." Said Damon.

They all nodded in agreement, and this had been the way most of their conversations had gone. It ended with somebody saying, "Let's cross that mountain when we get to it." And they would avoid a nasty conversation. So far it had worked for them, but the only thing that had clearly decided on was that they were going to stand for a second and run in behind the tributes running for the Cornucopia so they wouldn't have someone behind their back. Other than that, no serious plans had been made.

"Who do you think is the strongest so far?" Asked Lorena.

"Felix maybe, he seems to be leading the careers." Noted T.J.

"I heard the kid from 5 was pretty tough. But it is District 5 so there's no guarantees." Spoke Damon with a smirk.

This continued on for a short while, as they all sized up their fellow tributes, all agreeing that the boy from District 12 who had been shot was at an unfair disadvantage. But they didn't really focus on him at all. Their scattered conversations started to annoy Damon, and he wondered where his district partner was. Leah was a sweet little girl, and she reminded him of his own little sister. He often wondered how she was coping with all of this. He scanned around the room, but didn't see her. What he did see however, was the girl from District 12, walking his way.

"Hold up guys." He said, holding up his hand.

The girl finally made it up to the group, and handed a note to them.

"This is from Orion." She said, and turned and walked the other way.

"Who the hell are you?" Shouted Damon.

"Read it!" Demanded Lorena.

Damon shrugged and opened up the note.

_ Dear fellow tribute, I must ask you a question. Why do we allow the Careers to dominate us every year? Why do we allow those districts to constantly receive the benefit of a victor? I say no more, I say we band together, and with strength of numbers, eliminate the careers completely. Eradicate them with the fervor and swiftness that they have for years. Let's change the games together, _

_ Tributes together, we can kill the careers. _

_-Orion Northcliff _

They were all quiet for a moment, taking it in.

"Well," Started Damon, with a smile, "Isn't that interesting."

End of Training Part 1

(Reviews are amazing, if you want to leave one.)


End file.
